The Angel of Mercy
by RiversOnFire
Summary: Gisborne dies in the Holy Land, but lives in a strange new place he doesn't understand. Set after an alternate ending to S2 E13, "We are Robin Hood!"
1. Chapter 1

He was dead, of that he was sure. There's no way he made it out of the Holy Land alive, not after what he'd done. This must be hell, because there wasn't enough good in him to get him into heaven. Though, if he was being perfectly honest, he didn't believe in either place, or an afterlife, or even god. It was much easier to do terrible things without the thought of someone always watching you.

Wherever he might be, it sure was bright. Blindingly bright, shining even through his closed eyelids. And loud, beyond the roaring in his ears, he heard people yelling, indistinguishable commands coming from all directions, layered over sounds he couldn't recognize. Pain split his head as he tried to focus on the voices, the mental effort making him dizzy.

Wait, that wasn't right. Can you feel pain if you're dead? He should have paid more attention to the drabbling ministers when he was a child, so he knew what to expect when it came to death. If he is really dead, which he wasn't so sure of any more. How unfortunate, he had been ready to embrace death with open arms.

It was then that he realized his heart was beating. No, that wasn't strictly true, either. Someone was beating his heart for him. He was suddenly aware of the rhythmic pressure being applied to his chest, could feel with each thrust his life blood being pushed through his body. His body, though it didn't feel right. He felt heavy, weighted down. Or maybe that was weight of the person straddling him, forcing him to remain alive.

Alive, though he didn't want to be. No, he should be dead, deserved to be dead, wanted to be dead. How dare someone take that from him, make him suffer the consequences of his actions, when he had nothing left to live for? This thought enraged him enough that he struggled to open his eyes and face his aggressor, the monster that was foisting this torturous existence on him.

Blue eyes snapped open, locking onto the soft brown ones that hovered above him. Startled, she faltered a moment in her compressions. He took that opportunity to take a deep breath, the dry air stinging his lungs. With a roar, he sat up, pushing the girl off of him. She was caught by waiting hands before tumbling to the floor.

Pain shot through his side with the exertion, making his vision swim with stars. He cried out again with an endless scream, falling backwards into a black pit. Struggling, he tried to claw his way out, but people were holding him down now. The last thing he remembered before passing out again was the sharp prick to his arm, the sudden rush of warmth spreading through him, and a soothing hand brushing his forehead. After that was blackness.

His nightmares were filled Marian. She danced around him, out of reach, smiling. Or lay next to him, the shock clear in her eyes, realizing what he'd done. Sometimes he'd begin to wake up, struggling against the forces holding him down, only for a soft voice to shush him, some magic keeping his body subdued. Why? Why wouldn't they let him just slip away into the darkness that was calling for him?

Even while his body was asleep, his mind was not. Trapped, constantly fighting to wake up, never quite succeeding. The pain in his side was still there, but different now. It didn't really bother him much, except for the moments he fought too hard, before being coaxed back into his forced relaxation. If he had believed in the afterlife, this was surely purgatory. How long would he stay, stuck in limbo, held prisoner in his own body? The thought made him panic, deciding to put up one last fight. Strange alarms started blaring as he struggled against the unseen force pulling him under. Searing pain, stars, then blackness once again.

The next time he awoke, he was acutely aware that he was restrained. The soft cloth binding his wrists didn't feel strong enough to hold him down, but when he tested it, he was weaker than the bonds. Flashes of memories broke through the haze of ripping fabric and countless hands holding him still. At least he hadn't gone down without a fight.

How long has he been trapped in this nightmare? How long since Marian's been gone? How long has Hood had a head start to track him down? If he found him now, he'd easily be able to take his revenge. With this thought, Gisborne found he didn't care overly much. Surely, he deserved it, even welcomed it. Anything would be better than living with this pain, not the one in his side, but the one in his heart.

Tears pricked his eyes, clearing some of the grittiness as he hurriedly blinked them away. He could see more clearly now, neck stiff as he looked side to side. What he was seeing didn't make sense. Strange boxes that seemed lit from within by torches. Everything oddly shaped, made of materials he'd never seen before. Making sounds he'd never heard before. He wondered if he was still asleep, a dream within a dream, but knew his imagination wasn't so great to think up a place as alien as this.

As he lay there brooding, he took a moment to take inventory of his body. Legs seemed okay, if weak and difficult to move. Unidentified tubes coming out of unmentionable places. He'd have to revisit that at a later time. Every movement caused his head to swim, made the whole room seem like it was spinning. The pain in his side was still there, of course. Too bad Hood wasn't as good with a sword as he was with an arrow, or else he'd never be in this predicament.

His throat felt as dry as the dessert, as if he hadn't had anything to drink in centuries. He tried to speak, but all that came out was a low, strangled sound, like his voice had been injured as well. It hurt to breathe too deeply, hurt to move too quickly, hurt to think at all. He tried to clear his throat, but only succeeded in making himself cough, pain shooting across his chest. He added broken ribs to his mental list of injuries, wondering how that had happened.

Ah yes, the girl that was forcing him alive, manually beating his heart. That seemed like a worthwhile skill, and he was curious where such a small girl had learned it. He idly wondered if she was okay after her fall, hoping that he hadn't hurt her too much in his confusion. It was a ridiculous thought, as if he'd ever cared who he hurt before. But he hadn't liked the smug look on the man's face who had broken her fall.

As if he had conjured her up, the girl appeared before him. She was small, as he had thought, remembering the weight of her on top of him. But obviously fierce to be able to keep a man alive through pure force of will. It was her eyes that had haunted him in his stupor, not remarkable in color but in expression. You could read her every thought in those eyes. She'd never make it in Nottingham, he thought to himself, in his world of intrigue and mystery. She didn't seem like someone who would be able to keep secrets.

There was a smile in those eyes right now, and on her lips, seemingly happy to see him awake and not fighting for once. "Good morning, sleeping beauty. How do you feel?" The strangeness of her voice washed over him before her words even registered. It was lilting and musical, completely unlike anything he'd ever heard. He didn't know who this 'Sleeping Beauty' was but he was certain she must have him confused with someone else. When he tried to correct her, to tell her who he was, he could only produce a small croak, spurring on another coughing fit.

She smiled again, messing with one of the strange boxes near the head of his bed. "Hush now, my friend, take it easy. You were intubated for quite a while, so you haven't used that voice of yours in a long time. It will come back soon enough. Multiple self extubations aren't really helpful, either, in that regard." He didn't understand much of what she said, but her tone was comforting and confident, as if she knew what she was talking about.

Now she was putting something around his arm and doing something with a box on the other side of the bed. This seemed familiar, like a dance they had done countless times since he'd been trapped here. He felt a tight squeeze on his arm, fighting down the momentary panic as it relaxed again. "Good job," she said, taking off the device and patting his arm affectionately, "you're doing better every time. Honestly, they extubated you sooner than some of the doctors would have preferred- that is, you extubated yourself. You seem much calmer breathing on your own, though, and you're doing well, all things considered." He appreciated her steady stream of conversation, even though the words she spoke sounded strange and foreign.

Now she focused directly on him, pulling an oddly flexible, forked tube from around her neck. She put the two ends in her ears and laid the rounded end on his chest, saying, "I'm just going to listen real quick, okay?" He tried to hold still while she moved the device from left to right across his chest, zigzagging down his torso, brows furrowed in concentration. He wondered if she could hear his heart pounding, if it was as loud as it felt in his chest.

"Everything sounds good, better than expected, actually," she said, now feeling his wrists and feet, which he realized were also restrained. A vague memory of his foot connecting with a smug young man's face rose to the surface. The girl then instructed him to look straight ahead while she shined a suspiciously small but bright light directly into his eyes, making him blink.

Finally, the girl seemed almost finished, saying, "Okay, I'm just going to check your dressing, then we're done for now." He flinched as she pulled down his blankets and up his gown, the cold air hitting his exposed abdomen making him tense up and draw in a quick breath. Craning his neck, he was able to see the network of bruises coloring his chest, most of them the sickly yellow of healing. Then his attention was drawn to the pure white bandage covering his right side. The girl seemed pleased with what she saw, pulling his gown back down before he had a chance to examine the wounds further.

Brown eyes peered at him with an intensity that made him uncomfortable. He could almost see the gears working in her head as she seemed to weigh her options. "Do you know where you are?" She asked suddenly. He shook his head slowly, having no idea.

"Do you know who you are?" This time he nodded; that was something he was always confident in. "Are you hurting right now?" He considered her question for a moment, wondering why she cared. Yes, he was in pain. But he didn't really think it mattered. He tried to give a small shrug to convey this complex idea, wincing with the effort.

She seemed to understand, stepping back and moving to leave the room. "Okay, let me get you some pain medicine then," she said before turning away. Gisborne had the sudden realization that she was going to get more of whatever strange elixir made his eyes heavy and his mind dull.

Panicking, he struggled out a single word: "No!" It was sharp and scratchy, sounding like it came from a stranger's mouth. Startled, the girl turned around with an incredulous look. "You're saying you don't want pain medicine?" He nodded. "But you're in pain?" He tried to shrug again, more successfully this time. She came closer, eyes full of concern locking onto his, trying to understand what he couldn't say.

Then she sat back, nodding, "Okay, I won't give you anything for now. But if I see that it's getting to be too much, we'll have to do something. You need to be able to rest if you're going to get better, and you can't do that while writhing in pain. So I'll be watching you." This sounded like a threat, but her tone was light, joking.

She patted his hand softly. "Keep this up and we'll be able to get you out of those restraints soon. I'll update the doctors on your progress. They'll be happy for sure, we were all worried about you for a while there." Turning down the lights on her way out of the room, she said, "By the way, I don't think we've been properly introduced. My name is Robin." She flashed one last smile and was gone.

Once alone, he was suddenly exhausted. He didn't quite understand why, since he'd been asleep for god knows how long. Though, he supposed, it hadn't been a restful sleep. And now his mind was tired, as he tried to work through the confusion and piece together what had led to his current position. Nothing made sense. He wished he could move, stand up and walk out, but knew he'd never make it out of the bed, much less out of the room.

Eventually his thoughts slowed, and he couldn't keep his mind awake any longer. Allowing himself to relax, he fell into a dreamless sleep, truly resting for the first time since he'd been in this foreign place. It was nice to feel calm and secure, knowing he had a guardian watching over him, if only for the night.


	2. Chapter 2

It had been a rough shift. I was glad to burst out of the hospital doors and into the early morning sunshine, taking a deep breath of the crisp fall air. Too bad I had to sleep all day, only to be back inside the stuffy unit again all night. It's always a shame to waste such a gorgeous day on sleep. But the perks of night shift far outweighed the negatives, and a beautiful fall day was just one of the many prices I paid.

One of my patients wouldn't be there when I returned in the evening. Sometimes that was a good thing; it meant they got transferred to the floor, that they were getting better, hopefully going home soon. Other times, like today, it meant a family had finally made the tough decision to let go. After weeks of fighting, the call was made, the operating room readied, and a new group of families would experience hope and untold happiness stemming from another family's sacrifice.

That's not the reason I became a nurse, though it wasn't the worst part of my job. You can't save everyone, and at least something good could come out of another person's tragedy. But it's hard not to get attached, not just to your patients but to their families. It gets exhausting, always having to be the strong one, holding up those grieving as they let their loved one slip away. And then they're gone, either on with their lives or on to the other side, whatever that may be. A better place, I hoped, but wasn't so sure most of the time.

Shifts like that make me want to drink, and I had a bottle of scotch at home calling my name. Oddly enough, that wasn't the only thing calling my name, as I heard a strangled "Robin!" from around the corner. I dropped my lunchbox and took off in the direction of the sound, just in time to see a tall man in black, clutching his side, glancing around in confusion before dropping to the ground.

Thank god it was shift change, so I didn't have long to wait before my coworkers answered my frantic call for help. While I checked for a pulse, the back of my mind registered that this strange man was completely clothed in leather- what the hell? No pulse, so I quickly started compressions, noting that the ground underneath us was becoming sticky with blood, soaking through the knees of my scrub pants.

A quick pause while we transferred onto a stretcher, then back on board with compressions. I'm small enough, so it's usually my job to jump up top and ride along. It's honestly one of my favorite parts of running with the code team. There's something extra exciting about doing CPR while flying down the hallway on a stretcher, as if my job wasn't exciting enough. I loved the juxtaposition of the chaos in the emergency department with the simplicity of compressions. Once you had the rhythm down, it was surprisingly easy to keep someone mostly alive, at least for the brief ride down the hall.

We were just rolling into the trauma bay when his eyes suddenly flew open. It scared the shit out of me, probably because I was staring so intently at his face. Even on death's door he was incredibly handsome, with chiseled features and smooth, pale skin. His eyes were wide and furious, blue as ice, and just as cold. The intensity in them was unsettling. In that small moment, as I slowed compressions, I felt his chest move with a deep breath. That's good, he's breathing. Breathing is always a good thing, right?

Except he used that breath let out a bone shaking howl, and in one swift motion sat up, tossing me aside like a ragdoll. What drugs was he possibly on? Meth? Bath salts? I guess I was lucky he didn't try to eat my face. It was a good thing that Dr. Williams was there to break my fall, saving me from landing on my head. A quick survey showed no major damage except a bruised ego, and now more people were in the room, holding him down, starting IVs, getting meds ready, trying to stop the bleeding. Meanwhile he wouldn't stop screaming- an unearthly sound echoing through the whole emergency department, fighting against every person trying to help him.

Someone had to calm him down. Like a caged animal, he was fighting the effects of the medication. It's amazing how some people can do that, but everyone succumbs eventually. I know I have to hang around any way to debrief, so I reached up to smooth his hair, shushing him like a child. It works on the kids sometimes, distraction, letting them know it's all going to be okay, the adults have it under control. Finally, he relaxes, the drugs doing their job, so the trauma team could do theirs.

As I step back and let them get to work, Dr. Williams comes to stand next to me. "What happened?" It was a question I wasn't quite sure I could answer myself, not yet at least. We saw a lot of strange things in the few years we'd worked together, but a raging man in all black leather that seemed to fall out of the clear blue sky, well, that was pretty high on the list. There hadn't been any strange cars around; the ED was fairly quiet that time of morning. It seemed like no one had noticed where he came from. They finally rolled him back towards the operating room, after an epic struggle to remove the blood-soaked leather from his body.

"They didn't find any ID on him." One of the trauma nurses stops by to tell Dr. Williams. None of us were surprised, that would make it too easy. I just hoped he pulled through, so we could solve the mystery of the handsome black knight.

Dr. Williams turned and grinned at me, "Good job out there, Robin," he said, patting me on the head. "See you tonight, then, kiddo?" I couldn't help but smile back, even though he was as infuriating as ever. He knew I lived for this stuff, that I'd go home, sleep the few hours left until my next shift, and be back bright eyed and bushy tailed that evening. We were a lot alike in that aspect, one of the few things we had in common.

An hour later I was cleaned up and cozy in bed, blackout shades pulled tight against the dazzling sun. Scrubs rinsed and tossed in the washer set to sanitize. Hopefully those stains would come out. I usually didn't have any trouble sleeping after a shift, was generally very good about leaving work at work, but every time I closed my eyes I saw a pair of bright blue ones staring back at me. There was something unnerving about them, a quality I couldn't place. Finally, I drifted off, hoping that everything was going well back at the hospital.

Walking onto the unit that evening, eyes still a little bleary from lack of sleep, I wasn't surprised to find 'Trauma, John Doe' on my assignment sheet. Of course, I was down a patient after last night. Our charge nurse looked sympathetic, apparently having heard the story, and asked if I was comfortable with that. My sore shoulders protested, but I told her it was okay. He'd probably be more manageable now, anyway.

From report I gathered he had experienced a nasty penetrating trauma, source unknown. No one had seen how he got to the hospital, the police hadn't turned up any information. No one seemed to be looking for him, and of course he was too sedated to answer any questions. The surgeons had gone in and stitched everything up the best they could- whatever went through him hit as many important organs as it could. Bowel, liver, kidney. It was a miracle he hadn't bled out before they were able to fix him up. My hopefully-not-ruined scrubs were a testament to that fact.

"And he has an ungodly amount of scars," Lauren, his dayshift nurse, was saying. "It took 30 minutes to complete his skin check and chart them all. This obviously wasn't his first rodeo." With a glance at the still figure in the bed, she leaned towards me and lowered her voice. "They're sure it wasn't an accident. The police think it was either drugs or gang related."

I wasn't Lauren's biggest fan; she always went a little too into the gossip and not enough into the important things during report. "I thought his drug screens all came back clear," I said, hoping to get her back on track.

She shrugged, obviously preferring to believe her version of events, whether true or not. "Either way, he's going to hanging out with us for a while. At least he's easy on the eyes." I couldn't disagree with her there, though I wouldn't have said so straight out.

Even in his drug induced sleep he seemed to be grimacing, fighting some unseen battle in a faraway land. I tried to sooth him when I had the chance, but there was so much else to do for him. He made me nervous, like he was too alert, always on the verge of waking up. That would be a disaster, with all the lines and drains connected to him, one wrong move could disconnect half of them. On the bright side, it seemed like he would live. The doctors felt the surgery had went well, now he just needed to rest and heal. Leaving the next morning, I was fairly sure he'd be okay in my absence.

It wasn't a surprise when I got back a few days later and he was in restraints. The leg restraints were a little odd; we tried not to use them often. Then I saw the black eye blooming on Dr. Williams' face and had to stifle a small smile. I guess I wasn't the only one who felt the doctor needed a swift kick to the face sometimes. "He was trying to buck the tube," Dr. Williams was saying as I looked the patient over. "We decided to trial him off of it, but the poor guy seems determined to die, even if he doesn't need to." I wondered what this man had been through to make him want to choose death over life, even subconsciously. "But he seems to like you, Robin, so I'm glad your back." I discreetly rolled my eyes at this. The patient wasn't the only one that seemed to like me.

Regardless of how the good doctor felt, I was glad to be back, too. In my two days off, I hadn't been able to get our mystery patient out of my mind. It was comforting to see him, safe and sound, right where I left him. He seemed at least slightly more comfortable, though there were still moments when he'd fight through the medication, grimacing. Even when he was sleeping soundly his face still showed some internal struggle. I kept hoping someone would show up and claim him. It was hard to believe there was no one out there who cared for him or was trying to find him. But the police hadn't been able to find anything; there were no clues, no leads. No one came.

It was my third shift back that he broke the restraints. I was in the next room when I heard the commotion, running in just in time to see his wild-eyed expression, when with one final jerk he pulled his right hand free. I called out for help but wasn't quick enough to stop him from pulling out his endotracheal tube. He started coughing, pain written all over his face and panic in his eyes while I slapped a mask on him. His oxygen saturation was still dropping even on the mask, and one of my coworkers readied the airway kit.

There weren't enough of us yet to hold him down, even with him still partially restrained. Through the chaos I heard a frustrated voice call, "Stop fighting! He has to stop fighting us, Robin!" Dr. Williams was suddenly next to me with the blade and tube, waiting for me to move the mask after Jacqueline administered the medications. The patient seemed to understand what was about to happen, and fought harder, eyes wide and pleading.

His free hand came up and grabbed onto my wrist, holding the mask in place, his gaze locked on mine. "Wait," I said to Dr. Williams when he motioned to move the mask aside. I glanced at the monitor. His sats were climbing, slowly, but moving in the right direction. Turning back towards the mysterious patient, I decided to try my soothing voice again. "Hey. Hey, it's okay. You're alright. Just keep breathing for me, okay?" As I brushed his black hair out of his eyes, he seemed to relax some. The sedatives must have been setting in.

84… 88…. 93 percent… that was acceptable. "If you just keep taking deep breaths for us, we can leave the tube out, okay? Can you do that?" He gave a small nod, eyes starting to close. "Okay. Good. I think we're good," I said, turning to the doctor with a sheepish smile.

He seemed oddly disappointed that he didn't get to intubate this bear of a man but shrugged. "Well, I guess that's that then. Kind of anticlimactic. Keep him in the restraints though, if he keeps waking up swinging I don't want to make this black eye part of a matching set." I nodded and went to get a new set of restraints to replace the ripped ones.

Finally, after days of constant struggling, he slept. If it weren't for the monitors telling me otherwise, I'd have thought he was dead. He was breathing, sure, which is more than we could say before. But now I couldn't wake him up, and that wasn't okay, either.

Dr. Williams was obviously getting frustrated. "First, we can't keep him asleep, now we can't get him to stay awake. This guy isn't making our jobs easy, is he?" With a puzzled scowl, he stood looking over the patient. "I guess let him sleep. If this goes on too much longer we'll have to think about a feeding tube or something, but for now some extra rest isn't going to hurt him. At least we're past the face kicking phase." I didn't completely agree with his analysis, but it wasn't my call.

So, I went home and slept, too. I hadn't realized how tired I was, mentally and physically. After a 16 hour stretch of sleep time, only getting up to pee and drink water, I finally felt rested. Jacqueline, my best friend at work, decided she wanted to go to an early movie before our shift, so we went to the 10:00 am showing of some cheesy romcom. It was nice to be able to just chill for a bit, before being thrown back into the fray.

Back at work, the king of darkness was still sleeping, too. Apparently, he had hardly stirred in the last 36 hours. It was disheartening, when I felt we were making such progress before. Calmer, breathing on his own, all steps in the right direction. But now, as I did my assessment, he looked just like a beautiful corpse. They'd done more tests and scans, just to make sure, but everything came back normal. He was just asleep.

It was a relief, then, when I was checking hip pupils and he flinched, blinking at me quickly, confused, before going back to sleep. Some response was better than nothing, I supposed. I talked to him while I worked, hoping that something got through to him, so he'd know someone cared at least a little. People who didn't have anyone that cared usually didn't get better. I wanted him to get better, if only to answer the questions on all of our minds.

And then, just like that, he was awake. I heard him coughing from the nurses' station, and was pleased to find him alert and lucid, but obviously confused. I tried to fill him in on what had happened so far as I did a quick assessment, but nothing I said seemed to be sinking in. Maybe something _was_ something wrong with that brain of his. But he seemed to understand my questions, even if he couldn't quite answer them. Maybe it's pain, I thought, since we hadn't been keeping on top of the pain medicine while he was zonked.

I've never seen someone freak out like that when offered pain medicine. Most people are just dying for some of the good stuff, but he acted like I was trying to kill him. The more he moved, the more obvious it was that he was hurting. It was just that one strangled word- "No". It was kind of heart breaking. No, I wouldn't give him anything if he didn't want it, as long as he stayed calm and seemed okay.

The next time I checked on him, he was back sound asleep. This time he looked peaceful, his face relaxed, like a sleeping child. And this time, I didn't bother him, but let him sleep, hoping he was finally getting the rest he needed.


	3. Chapter 3

He slept for several more hours, barely moving a muscle, then woke up starving. He noted that his hands were still bound, and he tested his strength against the cloth. He felt stronger, his mind clearer. There was less pain in movement, though he was still parched. Clearing his throat experimentally, he noted that his voice sounded better than it had the last time he tried to use it. Again, he wondered how long he'd been here, how long since Marian- no, it wasn't the time for that. He needed to focus on getting out first, escaping this strange prison.

Now that he was alert, he was restless. The restraints severely limited his range of motion, but he tried moving his arms as much as possible. He was absorbed in the simple pleasure of being able to think clearly and move somewhat when the girl came in.

"Well, awake again I see." She said with a smile. He noticed the sun was starting to rise through the window. "I hope you don't mind, I opened the shades. I thought some natural light would do you good." That's when he realized he couldn't remember the last time he saw daylight. The sky was painted periwinkle with fluffy pink clouds. He idly wondered what happened to his leathers.

There was something oddly comforting about the way she went about her tasks, checking his body, fiddling with the strange the devices, chatting as she fluttered about. It was so foreign yet so domestic. As she was finishing up, the man with the smug smile wandered in the room. "You weren't lying, Robin, he is looking better!" Guy noticed she rolled her eyes a bit at this while the man did a quick assessment of his own to verify.

He crouched beside the bed. "I think we can get rid of some of these tubes and things, yeah? I bet you'd love to something to drink, too." Patting Guy's hand like a child, he turned to the girl. "Discontinue his Foley and restraints, and if you could put him on clears, that'd be great. You're a doll." He flashed a smile and was gone.

With a sigh, Robin started gathering the things she needed, muttering to herself. Finally turning her attention back to Guy, she said, "I'm going to take your catheter out first, just in case you still have some kick in you." He knew he looked extremely confused, because she clarified, motioning toward his crotch, "The tube in your urethra? Now that you're awake we have to take it out, so you can pee on your own."

Suddenly realizing what she meant, he tried to set up. "Pardon?" He said hoarsely, coughing.

That's when she started laughing, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes while she put on gloves. It took her a moment to compose herself before saying, "It's okay, it'll be over before you know it." With that she lifted his gown and went to work while he gritted his teeth and stared at the ceiling. She was right, it wasn't a long procedure, but It wasn't a feeling he ever wanted to revisit. However, he appreciated the immediate sense of relief he experienced once it was over.

Moving to release his legs from their bonds, she giggled again. "You've said all of two words since you've been here. 'No,' and 'pardon'. You're not the most agreeable man in the world, are you?" He thought she shouldn't be poking fun at him in such close proximity to his newly freed legs but couldn't tell her that. Suddenly thoughtful, she glanced up at him. "Although I guess you said one more thing, right before I found you outside." He wracked his brain but couldn't remember much of anything beyond the moment when he drove his sword into Marian's abdomen.

Grimacing at the memory which lodged itself in his mind, he held his breath for a moment in an attempt to shake the pain in his heart. The boxes above his bed made a grating mechanical beep.

"What are you doing? Jesus… are you holding your breath?" She slapped his leg, jostling his whole body and forcing him back to the present. "There, that's better. Don't do that. We've worked too hard for you to just up and die on us." He wasn't sure why she cared so much, this strange girl in a strange place, with her strange voice and eyes that said everything.

She was back to looking at him in curiosity. "Don't you want to know what the third thing you said was?" She asked, obviously wanting to tell him. He nodded, and she started on untying his wrists. "I was walking out after my shift- it was a stressful one, by the way- just admiring the beautiful morning and planning my after-work alcohol consumption," she was rambling, obviously a person who loved to tell stories. Although it wasn't proper for a woman to talk so openly about her enjoyment of alcohol, especially first thing in the morning. Now that he thought about it, almost nothing about her was proper.

One hand free now, she went to work on the other, talking all the while. "You scared me, you know, I dropped my lunchbox and everything, when I heard you calling." Both hands were free now, and he brought them together to feel the spots on his wrists where the restraints had been. She seemed distracted by the action, watching him intently as if he could snap again at any moment. He cleared his throat to remind her to finish her story.

"Oh, right. So, I was walking out, and I heard someone calling out. It was you, of course, there wasn't another soul around." Now she looked him square in the eyes, trying to see something inside him that he was sure he preferred to keep hidden. "You said 'Robin'."

It felt like someone had punched him in the gut, and he closed his eyes, so she couldn't see the emotions there. "Robin," he said quietly, almost forgetting she was there at all. What a disappointing last word, if it were his last and this were some sort of strange afterlife. He'd always expected to die in a blaze of glory, not in shame at the hands of enemy, his name on his lips. It served him right, probably, after all he had done.

The room was strangely silent. Guy opened his eyes to see he was alone again. What had she seen in those moments that scared her away? But no, there she was again, this time holding a small box. "Apple juice," she said with a shrug. "It's better to drink something with a little sugar in it first, it's easier on the stomach. I'd hate for you to barf everywhere after we are doing so well."

She handed him the box, which was cold, motioning for him to drink. He assumed that's what the small clear tube sticking out of the top was for. Taking a small sip, he grimaced at the sickly-sweet liquid, but it felt good on his dry throat.

Satisfied that he wasn't going to 'barf'- whatever that meant- she began cleaning up the room, ridding it of the restraints and supplies she'd used to remove the catheter. "Honestly, you're probably ready to transfer to the floor. Too bad the floor is full, and you're stuck with me until a bed opens up." A self-deprecating smile, her eyes saying that she didn't mind him sticking around. He didn't mind it either, not that he knew what she meant by 'the floor' or what that entailed. He preferred to stay in the somewhat familiar place he was currently, at least until he had regained more of his strength.

Before he knew it, the whole box of liquid was gone. He felt strangely revived by the unfamiliar drink and wondered if there was some kind of alcohol in it. "You're looking better already," she said, taking the box from him. "The miracle of apple juice, it makes everything better. Maybe next time we'll try a popsicle." He didn't like that she seemed to be able to read his mind, though he wondered what a popsicle was and if would make him feel better as the apple juice had. She seemed to know what she was talking about, so he had no reason not to trust her opinion.

"Well, it's almost shift change, so I'll be in with your day shift nurse in just a little bit. You'll be okay for while? Not going to run away or anything?" She seemed to think that was a very real possibility, though he knew it would be some time before he was able to do any running at all. He gave her a small smile of assurance, and she turned to go. "Oh, one more thing," she said, stopping in the doorway. "I'm sorry, but you didn't have any ID on you and we've all been dying to know. What's your name?"

Was there any real danger in telling her? He wondered. He felt safe here, but if they knew who he was, would that still be the case? He was sure someone would come looking for him eventually, Robin, his gang, the sheriff. It was probably better for these people to remain strangers, but he couldn't resist satisfying her curiosity at least a little bit. So, he cleared his throat and said simply, "Guy."

"Guy," she repeated, "how fitting. Well okay then, Guy, I'll be back in a smidge." And then she was gone. For some reason he felt like he had just fought in a great battle, heart pounding in his chest like an executioner's drum.

Now that he was awake and rested, he felt like he needed to move. He sat up, grimacing with the effort and the pain that shot through his side, arms shaking while trying to hold up his body. He collapsed back down, struggling to catch his breath. He tried again, and again, sitting up a little straighter, staying up a little longer with each attempt. That's how they found him when they came in for shift change, sitting straight up in bed and trying to figure out how to lower the railing on the bed. It was difficult to maneuver, as he was still loosely restrained to one of the light boxes next to his bed. An experimental tug on the tubing attached to his arm yielded a slight stinging sensation, so he left it alone. He had about made up his mind to just climb over the railing when Robin and another girl walked in.

Somehow, he instinctively knew he was doing something that he shouldn't be. Robin just shook her head at him while he froze, caught in the act. "You just have to be difficult, don't you?" She said with a huff, gently pushing him back into the bed before fiddling with something on the side. He was alarmed when the whole bed started moving, turning into some sort of chaise lounge, as if by magic. But it was much more comfortable that way, less strain being put on his wound than sitting up on his own.

"Don't you dare get out of this bed alone, okay? We're here to help you. We'll let you know when you're ready to get up, and right now the doctors say you need to stay in bed." He didn't like being scolded like a child, having to adhere to all these rules he hadn't agreed to and didn't understand. But Robin softened her stern words with a smile, and he got the impression that her serious tone was more for the benefit of the other girl than it was for him.

The new girl looked hesitantly at Robin. "Are we sure it's safe for him to be unrestrained?" She asked with an uncertain look in his direction. Guy instantly disliked her, talking about him as if he wasn't there.

Robin turned pointedly towards him, "You'll behave for Lauren, won't you? No climbing out of bed, no tossing people around?" He had sort of hoped that was all in his imagination, but of course she remembered that incident clearly. He nodded, leaning back and folding his hands innocently in his lap. Lauren still regarded him with the same look you'd give a wild animal but seemed to accept the current status of things.

And then Robin was gone, and he was left with this new stranger who thought him dangerous. Well, she wasn't wrong, he was dangerous. No one here had any idea how dangerous he really was, and he planned to keep it that way. He decided to remain silent, though he had as many questions as he knew his caretakers did.

It was a good decision; this Lauren wasn't nearly as tactful as Robin, nor half so kind. As she did the same things he had watched Robin do, but with less grace and skill, she asked him a myriad of questions, never leaving time for him to answer, if he had chosen to.

"Where'd you come from, anyway? Robin said it was like you'd fallen clear out of the sky. Too bad it wasn't me that stumbled upon you, Robin always gets all the good stories. And drugs. There's no way you weren't on any drugs, the way they said you were carrying on downstairs. It must be something new, to not show up on drug screen. Not much of a talker, are you? Well, keep your secrets. The police will figure it out eventually. They always do. You'd think you'd want them to find out who did this to you, unless you were up to no good. You're lucky to even be alive, I'm sure you'd be dead if someone hadn't found you so soon." She rambled on and on until he thought he'd lose his mind. Clenching his fist to restrain himself from slapping her just to shut her up, he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep.

Finally, after what seemed like years, she was done. "I guess now that you're awake, you'll probably be getting stir crazy. Here, let me switch on the TV for you, it'll at least give you something to do," she said, fiddling with the black rectangle he'd noticed on the wall. Suddenly it sprang to life, lights and sounds materializing as if summoned by a witch. Like a painting in motion, but more realistic than even that, the people moved within the black lines. It seemed to be a portal to another realm, and he wondered vaguely if it were some such portal that brought him to this foreign land in the first place. He tried to tamp down his panic and confusion, to not let it show to Lauren for fear it would keep her there longer.

He needn't have worried, she was clueless to his discomfort. Taking one last sweep of the room, she made a clicking noise with her tongue before walking to a white square section on the wall. "That's just like Robin, she never updates her whiteboard." With a roll of her eyes she pulled some sort of writing implement out of a hidden pocket of her breeches. She filled out a few lines before stepping back, obviously satisfied. "There, you're all set." Nodding to herself, she pranced out the door.

Thankful she was finally gone, Guy peered to see what she had written on the wall. Suddenly it felt as if the walls were tumbling down on top of him, and he had to fight back the urge to cry out. At the bottom of the square Lauren had written the date. October 20th, 2018. And just like that, any sense of calm he had been struggling to maintain was shattered into a million pieces.


	4. Chapter 4

It was an unfortunate turn of fate that Lauren was assigned for his dayshift nurse. She's not a bad nurse, per se, just not the person I would have chosen, if it were up to me. When he was asleep, it didn't matter as much. There's not as much finesse required to take care of an unconscious patient. Lauren was perfectly capable and efficient when it came to the hard-core nursing skills we use in the ICU. She could run a code like no one's business and was great about catching onto little things before they became bigger problems. But, like many critical care nurses, she usually preferred her patients sedated and silent. At least she'd have the silent part of the package.

I would have preferred someone more… Compassionate. Empathetic, maybe. It felt like he needed someone who would try to understand what he was going through. Lauren probably would not be that person. There was a lot to be done on dayshift- Dr Williams had put in a physical therapy order, and one to advance diet as tolerated. If, God forbid, a bed opened on the floor, she'd have to transfer him down there. I hoped that wouldn't happen; it didn't seem like either of them would handle that well.

As I lay in bed, struggling to fall asleep, I thought about how strange the whole situation was. Who was he? Guy, I at least knew that much, now. As of there wasn't a more generic name out there. It occurred to me that it was a made-up name, but what would be the benefit of that? No, he seemed to be telling the truth, in that regard. As far as anything else went, he wasn't saying much of anything at all.

Then there were his odd reactions to normal everyday things. What kind of strange life does someone lead to be that confused by a box of apple juice? Not to mention how he acted when I went to take out his Foley, like he thought I was going to chop his dick off. None of it added up. At least he was awake, drinking, and out of restraints. Everything else could be worked out in due time. Maybe he'd be more open to conversation after spending all day with Lauren. Either that or he'd be exhausted by her constant gossip. I just hope she didn't say anything too crazy about me in the process.

My alarm woke me up before I had even realized I'd fallen asleep. Looking at the clock, I realized I had hit snooze a few times, too, so I was rushed getting ready. Out the door, into the car, then walking back into the hospital, feeling like I had never left. But a lot can happen in twelve hours.

A lot had happened, too, apparently. Lauren practically tackled me as soon as I stepped foot on the unit. "Thank God you're back," she said dramatically as I set my things down.

"Bad day?" I asked, logging into a computer.

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, literally the worst." I kind of doubted that but kept that opinion to myself. "Your little mystery friend in there is the most frustrating patient in the world," she continued, unprompted. "Every little thing is this huge battle, and he refuses to say a single word."

Obviously, I was wrong about her being pleased with a silent yet alert patient. "Yeah, he's definitely not a man of many words," I said, printing my papers and writing down my scheduled meds for the night.

"More like he's not a man of _any_ words," Lauren retorted. "Now he has this fever that won't go down, and he fights me every time I try to give him Tylenol. Acts like I'm trying to poison him or something. It's freaking Tylenol, for God's sake."

Looking through his chart, I saw she wasn't kidding about the fevers. A 40.1 degree temperature was nothing to scoff at, not at this stage of his recovery. "I'm ready for report if you want to go ahead," I told her, pulling an extra chair around.

She sat down with a sigh, starting with the obvious. "So yeah, fevers. T-max of 40.1, only came down to 38.6 for a very brief time, before going back up to 39.4. It's probably still climbing, honestly, but it's almost time for Tylenol again. Good luck with that. Dr. Cooke was here today, she didn't want to make any major changes until Dr. Williams came in tonight, since it's his patient. She's thinking a CT scan and more antibiotics, but we'll see. We did a respiratory panel, just to be sure. It was all negative." She paused, to see if I had any questions before moving on.

"No other symptoms besides the fever, though?" I asked, just to be sure.

She shook her head, "Nope. Everything else is fine, at least for the moment. He got up with PT today- that was fun. Better than him climbing out of bed on his own, I guess. He did alright with them, still pretty weak, of course, but he's actually moving better than you would expect. He peed, finally, though he acted like I was an idiot when I told him to pee in the urinal, so we could measure it. I sent that off, too, for analysis and culture." I mentally added 'urinals' to the list of things that seemed to confuse him, though that one was a little more understandable. "I was going to advance his diet, then the fevers started. He didn't act too interested in eating anything any way. He only drank a few sips of apple juice and some water here or there. I gave him a Jell-O, but he wouldn't touch it. Not that I blame him there, Jell-O is disgusting."

Standing up, we made our way towards his room. Lauren stopped just before opening the door. "Oh yeah, some of the nursing students helped him get a good bath. They said it was the most awkward thing they've had to do so far. Partially because he's, you know, super hot. But they also said there's something about him that made them uncomfortable. I have to agree with them on that. Maybe he's secretly a serial killer or something." With that, she opened the door and went inside.

He was sitting up in the bed when we walked in, shivering uncontrollably. Blood was running down his arm, and he held his IV in his other hand, dripping fluid into the bed. "Shit," Lauren said under her breath. He glanced up at us in confusion, then looked back down to the line of blood on his forearm.

"I'm sorry, I…" he trailed off when Lauren's head snapped up at the sound of his voice. "There was some discomfort," he finished, looking at me while Lauren turned off the pump and put gauze on his arm. When I stepped closer I saw that his arm was red and angry as if he'd been scratching at it.

Lauren shook her head in frustration, "I told you earlier to stop messing with it. Now you'll have to get a new one. Thank god it was only fluids going and not a medication." She handed me a Band-Aid and took the old IV from his hands.

As soon as I touched him I could tell something was wrong. "Jesus, you're burning up," I said, feeling his other arm before grabbing the thermometer. 40.3 degrees. He looked at me with glassy eyes, blinking as if he recognized me but couldn't place who I was.

Noting the temperature, Lauren sighed. "It's close enough to time for the Tylenol, I'll grab it."

While she did that, I cranked down the thermostat and pull back his blankets. He shivered again, trying weakly to grab the blankets from me. "Guy, you're too hot. We have to cool you down."

He released the blankets but didn't look happy about it. "Not hot. Cold," he said through clenched teeth. Before I could respond, Lauren was back with the Tylenol and some ice packs.

"Alright, I need you to take this for me, just like you did earlier, okay?" Lauren tried to hand him the medicine cup and an apple juice, but he stared at her, unmoving aside from the trembling of his body. "Okay then, just open your mouth. It's that easy." All he gave in response was a single, firm shake of his head. "Are you kidding me? I don't have time for this, Robin. I'm going home." She handed me the medication and apple juice, obviously done with his stubbornness for the day.

I rolled my eyes slightly as she walked out. "That's fine, Lauren. I can take it from here. Sleep good!" With a small wave in return she was gone. I turned my attention back towards the patient. "Well, Guy, you have two options. Want to hear them?" He raised his eyebrows slightly, so I continued, "You can either take this medication, easy-peasy, or I can pile all these ice packs on you until your fever comes down." I grabbed an ice pack from the counter to demonstrate, putting it on his chest.

The instant the cold touched his chest he grimaced, but he refrained from removing it at the moment. I noticed he was breathing too fast, with short, shallow breaths. His heart rate was elevated as well, and when I felt his pulse I realized it was pounding. I grabbed a few more ice packs, putting one under each arm and one at the back of his neck. "There," I said, stepping back. "How does that feel?"

"Cold," was his terse, irritated reply. He would have been a lot more intimidating if he wasn't shaking like a leaf.

I held up the medicine cup again. "Well, there's always the other option." I honestly preferred a two-pronged approach but decided to pick my battles. If he'd at least take the Tylenol, I wouldn't push the issue of the ice packs.

He finally nodded and held out his hand, downing the pills with a few sips of juice before tearing the ice packs off him, tossing them to the floor. "Good. Now you can rest a bit while we wait for that to work. I'll come start your new IV in a little while." He suddenly looked exhausted from just that small interaction, closing his eyes when I turned down the lights.

Quietly closing the door behind me, I took a deep breath and went to get report on my other patient. Thankfully that one was straightforward, because I had a feeling Guy would be a handful. Dr. Williams stopped by the nurse's station just as I was getting up to go check on my problem patient.

"How is our Dark Knight doing now? I heard there was some trouble today," he asked, flipping through his papers. "Oh yeah, fevers. How's that going?"

His nonchalant tone irritated me. "He has a name, you know. It's Guy." He gave a small smirk but remained silent, still waiting for a response to his inquiry. "He was at 40.3 last I checked. Tachy, tachypneic, confused. He pulled out his IV. I'm going to recheck him now, to see how the Tylenol is working."

This time he at least had the courtesy to look concerned. "Ah, well. We'll watch his cultures. Make him NPO at midnight and we'll plan for a CT in the morning. Sounds like he's working on an abscess. I've got a feeling he won't go willingly, so he'll probably need sedation."

I nodded, his words matching what I had already assumed. "Once this fever comes down and he's a bit more lucid, I'll restart his IV. Otherwise we'll need a few strong guys to hold him down."

Laughing at this, he agreed. "I'll throw in some Toradol for good measure, just incase that fever holds out. Keep me updated, won't you, dear?" He laughed again at my exaggerated eye roll and walked away.

When I opened the door, Guy startled awake. With wild eyes he looked around the room, calling frantically, "Marian!" before finally focusing on me. "You're not Marian." Dejected, he collapsed back on the pillows.

"No, I'm not. I'm Robin, remember?" At this he closed his eyes and nodded, though I wasn't sure if that meant he remembered me or if he was just acknowledging that I was, in fact, not Marian. Whoever she was. Either way, I could see immediately that his fever was coming down. His breathing was deeper and more even, his heart rate had slowed some.

As I went to take his temperature again, he looked up at me with clear blue eyes. He seemed to want to say something but held back. "38 even," I said, satisfied. "Much better. How do you feel?"

He considered my question for a moment before shrugging. "Of what consequence is it to you?"

The ridiculous nature of the question made me want to laugh, while the low timbre of his voice and the sadness it held sent a twinge through my heart. I decided on a small smile and said, "I'm your nurse. It's my job to care about you." That wasn't strictly true, since you could take care of someone without really caring about them. But I found that I did care about this odd man who seemed to have no one else to worry about whether he lived or died.

Now he wouldn't meet my gaze, instead looking down at his hands. They were large hands, roughened by a life that obviously hadn't been easy. The difficulty of his life was written on his face, seeming as if the weight of all the world's troubles were weighing on him. Once again, I wondered exactly what had brought him here, if there was really no one out there looking for him. These weren't the kinds of questions you could just come out and ask someone, especially not someone who, so far, had only spoken a handful of words.

It was apparent that he wasn't going to answer my original question, so I stepped back. "I'm going to get the IV supplies, I'll be right back. Do you need me to get you anything?" He shook his head, still not raising his eyes.

As I opened the door I heard him say softly, "Robin." It was so quiet I almost didn't hear him. When I turned around he was looking at me intently. "Thank you." I had no idea exactly what he was thinking me for, but I gave him another small smile and nodded, before leaving to gather my supplies.

 _Yes_ , I thought, _he was certainly a handful_. This was going to be a long night.


	5. Chapter 5

The year 2018. It was beyond all reasoning, no, it was not possible. _2018_. A number he could hardly comprehend. Fear gripped his heart, making it difficult to breathe. A faint beep beside his bed reminded him to inhale deeply- wouldn't want that she-devil to be beckoned to return. The magic portal box continued to emit a stream of sounds and rapidly changing images, people dancing across the miniature stage as if they'd been shrunk and trapped there.

 _Think rationally, Gisborne_. Though he was the first to admit he wasn't always the most rational person. He often let his emotions rule his actions; that was perhaps his one great failing. There had to be some explanation for all of this, he was sure, if he could only have a moment to himself to think it through. But there was too much going on in the small room, overwhelming his already fragile senses. He looked around for something to throw at the box, picking up a strange device with symbols and words imprinted on it. He was about to toss it in an attempt to damage the devil box but noticed a small space on the apparatus that said in bold letters: OFF. He touched it experimentally, and immediately the square went silent and black again.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Guy settled back in his bed, reveling in the return of comparable silence. Of course, it wasn't the complete silence he was used to; there was always a faint cacophony of beeps and cries of varying urgency. He assumed these sounds came from other poor souls held prisoner as he was. Even when there were no foreign beeps, which was rare, there was the low murmur of voices stationed nearby, in some unknown place outside his door. That was more comforting, especially at night, when he had imagined the girl, Robin, was out there keeping watch over him.

It was less comforting to imagine his new guard, Lauren, who had apparently taken up the watch. He shouldn't have thought of her, because she appeared not long after. "I guess you don't like to watch TV, then," she said, noting the silence of the black box with an air of irritation. "You could have just said so. Whatever, it's up to you. I just came to let you know that PT will be in shortly to work with you. They'll help you get up, that should cheer you up some, right?" She huffed when Guy just blinked at her in response. "Okay, well, we should at least get some pain medicine in you before they come. I don't need you screaming in here and scaring the other patients like before."

Pain medicine- he recognized those words, and he wanted none of it. He shook his head sharply, causing her to narrow her eyes in suspicion. "You can't possibly be refusing pain medicine. Why?" Of course, she received no answer. "Okay, have it your way. But don't come crying to me when you're hurting later. Hopefully, a spot will open up on the floor before that even happens." Brightening at the thought, she flounced out of the room, the door closing roughly behind her.

Maybe he wouldn't mind going to "the floor", wherever that was, if it meant getting away from his new jailer. He wondered idly if the floor was hell, since this current location seemed like some sort of twisted purgatory. If that were the case, where was heaven? He figured that's where Marian would be and wished he could make his way there.

 _No_. He had to stop that line of thinking. She had made her feelings more than clear, in those moments just before… he couldn't finish the thought, couldn't face head-on the monstrous transgression he had committed. The blackness and despair that encompassed their last moments together threatened to swallow him whole. Marian was not his love, his angel. She'd lied to him, used him for her own agenda. No- not her agenda, he corrected himself. Hoods agenda. That made his heart ache even more.

A sudden beeping above his head alerted him to the fact that he was holding his breath. Inhaling slowly, he struggled to change the direction of his thoughts. This wasn't the time to dwell on the past. Nothing could be done about his previous actions. He had to figure out where he was now, and how he had gotten here.

The stress and confusion of the last few hours were suddenly taking their toll on him, and he fell into a restless sleep before his thoughts could go any further. He awoke to the sound of a stranger's voice, opening his eyes to see a man with kind eyes smiling at him.

"Good morning! I'm Bill, the Physical Therapist. I've heard we're going to get you out of bed today. How's that sound?" The man's voice was quick and peppy, equal parts infectious and irritating. He didn't seem to mind when Guy didn't answer his question. "Oh, yes, Lauren said you were a quiet one. That's fine, I can do enough talking for the both of us." Guy wondered what it was about these people, why everyone seemed so willing to share every aspect of their lives with total strangers. He'd never met so open and transparent people in all his life. It was off-putting, making him glad of his decision to remain a silent enigma.

Though it would have been a lot easier to communicate his discomfort if he had chosen to speak. The process of getting out of bed the first time was long and painful. Bill watched him carefully the whole way, always alert to his every grimace and twinge. Still, it was a relief when Guy finally stood on his own two feet for the first time it what felt like years. The relief was short-lived, however, pain settling into his features soon after.

Bill helped him get back into bed before saying, "Okay, we will try again later. You did great, and every time will be a little easier than the last. I'll see you this afternoon." Then he was gone, and Guy was left alone again, the usual dullness of the discomfort in his side sharpening into a fire-hot pain. It felt like he was being pierced through all over again, causing concern to boil up inside. He could feel his pulse starting to race, a sense of panic coming over him.

The subsequent beeping brought Lauren to his bedside. "What's this, now? Are you hurting?" She seemed at least somewhat self-satisfied, proud that her prediction had come to pass. Now that he was not moving so much, the pain began to subside a bit. "Well, let me at least look at your incision to make sure you didn't damage anything." When she was finally assured that all was well in that regard, she considered him carefully for a moment. "You haven't peed, right?"

What an inappropriately personal question! He was mildly scandalized by her inquiry, which was apparent on his face. "I'll take that scowl of yours as a no," she said. "You need to do it soon, or else we'll have to put another catheter in." That was something he wanted to avoid at all costs, so he nodded. Lauren walked over to the counter and grabbed an oddly shaped clear container. "You'll need to go in the urinal, so we can measure. Do you know how to use one?" A shake of his head confirmed her suspicions, so she demonstrated how to use it by positioning it near her own nether regions.

Guy felt like his eyes were going to fall out of his head at the spectacle, which Lauren made apparent she didn't appreciate. "Listen, I don't care how you go about it. I just need you to pee, preferably in here," she said, shoving the container at him. When she left, he realized he did need to relieve himself. So, he supposed he was grateful that she had provided him a means to do so, however ridiculous and obscene it felt.

Slightly more comfortable after the deed was done, and exhausted after his short jaunt out of bed, Guy felt himself drifting off again. His rest was to be cut short, however, as he was jolted awake by Lauren's return, this time with two younger women with her. They were wearing matching white uniforms and looked remarkably nervous. "These are some nursing students on the floor today. I thought it'd be good to get you cleaned up, so they're here to help. Be nice." With those parting words, she left him alone with these two strangers, children really, for they both seemed barely out of their adolescent years.

Now they looked downright terrified, and he realized he'd been staring too intently at them. Good. They should be afraid, if they knew half the things he'd done in his life, they'd probably faint dead away. One of the girls decided to take charge and said, "We are going to give you a bath, sir. I have the supplies here. We've been checked off on our bed bath skills, so we know what we are doing." He liked that she called him 'sir', suddenly realizing that these people in this strange place hadn't been paying him due respect. He had his doubts that either of these two girls knew what they were doing, however.

It was with great discomfort and mortification for all involved parties that the bathing procedure was finally completed. Though the girls made a great show about "providing privacy and preserving his dignity," it would have been better served to just let him bathe himself. Under normal circumstances, he considered ruefully, he would be more than pleased to be catered to by a pair of objectively attractive young ladies. But these circumstances were far from normal, so, instead, it was one of the most humiliating experiences of his life. He had a feeling that the two girls left with a similar sentiment.

Admittedly, he did feel better afterward, for a short time. There's something to be said for a clean body. It wasn't too much longer, though, that the shivering started. It was a feeling deep in his bones, an uncontrollable shaking that made his teeth chatter. Then he would feel hot and cold at the same time, and the sharp pain in his side that he felt earlier made a reappearance. Lauren was quickly at his bedside again, flitting around as she always seemed to do before saying, "Well, that's why you're tachy, you've got a fever!" He wasn't sure what that meant but his mind felt murky trying to decipher her words.

Then Lauren was in front of him, handing him a small white cup and telling him to swallow what was in it. That sounded like a bad idea, so he refused, the act of shaking his head making the world swim around him. "Listen, you have to take this. It's just Tylenol. It's for the fever," Lauren tried to hand him the cup again. He refused. "You feel like crap, don't you? I can tell you do. This will make you feel better." Guy stared at her blankly, wondering what they were arguing about. He suddenly felt very tired, but closing his eyes made turned the bed into a ship on a stormy sea. Lauren could sense he was giving up, so she put the cup to his lips and said, "Open up," pouring the medication in against his weak protests. A sip of juice later and it was done.

"There, now why did you have to make that so difficult? I'll recheck your temp in an hour. Maybe get some rest, okay?" She didn't wait around for an answer, knowing by now that none would be coming. Guy closed his eyes and slipped into fevered dreams. There were snakes coiled in his abdomen, squirming around inside him. He was in the snow, so cold he couldn't move. Then he was lying in the blood-soaked sand. But it wasn't his blood that was covering him, it was Marian's. His own blood had turned to water and was freezing in his veins. Finally, he woke up drenched in sweat, but less chilled than before. Lauren seemed pleased with this as well when she came in to check on him.

In due time he felt the lines between his dreams and reality blurring again. Marian was there, standing beside his bed. When he tried to reach for her, he seemed to be restrained. The motion caused a sharp stinging in his arm, and suddenly it was hot, so hot. He scratched and pulled until his arm was free and the feeling was gone, replaced by blood, slowly rising to the surface before making a line towards his wrist. The trembling was back, his jaw clenching as if he could stop it by sheer force.

A sound from the doorway drew his attention, where two familiar figures stood, though he couldn't remember where he knew them from. They flew around his room like birds, and he was vaguely aware of his own voice, scarcely realizing he had spoken. Guy didn't think it possible to be any colder than he was at that moment but was soon proven wrong. He would do anything to stop the freezing reign of terror that was being placed upon him.

The presence of another person in the room pulled him awake. _Ah, my Marian, at last_ , he thought, _finally come to save my lost soul from this purgatory_. Upon opening his eyes, he saw that it was not Marian, but one of his captors, surely there to prolong his torture. Robin. That's right. He was acutely aware that the coldness was gone, replaced by the familiar emptiness to which he was accustomed. Maybe he was too harsh on these people here; their witchcraft did seem to work, whether he wanted it or not.

With regret he realized he had spoken his love's name aloud, an unfortunate occurrence which he hoped would not lead to more dangerous circumstances. None of the people in this place needed to know of Marian, yet now one of them did. At least it was the girl, Robin; he felt her the least likely to use any information against him. In fact, something about the way she was looking at him now made him want to spill all of his secrets. That would be insanity, he knew. Perhaps his brain was still addled from the new sickness that had seemed to overtake him, mind and body.

He found it strange how amused she seemed at the things he said and did. His question was of a serious nature, yet she seemed to think him joking. But her answer was honest, he could tell that much was true. She was doing her job, which was apparently to take care of prisoners such as himself. He thought she was good at it, too, much better than the she-devil, Lauren. If he was being truthful, he liked being cared for- it wasn't a feeling he was used to experiencing. Most people only cared for what they could get out of him, not the man he was.

It was surely true that many people had used him to their own advantage. While he struggled for power and prominence, he was a stepping stone for others fighting towards the same outcome. How had it come to this? These hands that had caused so much suffering, now weak and ineffectual, trapped in a place he did not understand. He wondered briefly how he would get home. Yet what would even be waiting for him at home except for despair and revenge?

Robin had waited so long without an answer that he almost forgot she was there. She needed to go get something, she said. He appreciated her unobtrusive demeanor, her kindness in the face of the difficulties he'd bestowed on her. It was suddenly very important to tell her so, to let her know that he truly appreciated the things she had done for him thus far. But he wasn't an eloquent man, so a simple thank you had to suffice for the moment.

Before long she returned, hands filled with small packages that she arranged on the counter. "Okay, Guy, this will only sting a little bit. If you leave this one alone we won't have to do this again any time soon," she said, examining his forearm. She tied a strip of blue material around his arm, tapping the skin below it before wiping the area with a cold square of cloth. She paused a moment, "Alright, a little sting, Guy," before sticking an oddly shaped needle into his skin.

Clenching his jaw and breathing out sharply through his teeth, he tried to keep from flinching as she finished up. "Come on, don't be a baby, we're done anyway," she said, admiring her handiwork. In short order she had him reconnected, smiling as she said, "There, good as new. You won't be able to drink anything after midnight; do you want something now? Another juice, or maybe a popsicle?" Instead of waiting for a response that may not be forthcoming, she continued, "How about I just bring both, just in case?" He nodded, and she went on her merry way.

This time when she returned she handed him an odd red icicle on a stick. "I brought cherry, it's my favorite," she commented as he studied the curiosity in his hands. Robin was looking at him with barely concealed interest, almost as if she knew something was off about him. What was he supposed to do with this so-called 'popsicle'? He quickly scrambled to figure out the answer in order to avoid further suspicion.

"You lick it." She seemed to read his mind again, an occurrence that was starting to become more concerning. He gave the piece of ice an experimental lick, finding it surprisingly sweet and refreshing. Satisfied that he wasn't going to provide further entertainment at the moment, she moved toward the door. "I've got to go check on my other patient. You'll be okay for a bit? You look better already." Guy had to admit that he felt somewhat better, too, so he nodded, and she left him to his thoughts.

He must have fallen asleep again; when he awoke the room was darker than he remembered, and he sensed a person moving in the shadows next to his bed. Instinct took over as he held still, waiting for the right moment to strike out at the intruder. The moment came when a slender arm reached over him, the perfect opportunity to grab the shadowy figure and pull them down.

The intruder emitted a surprised squeak, as Guy, in his weakened state, lost his grip and only succeeded in pulling the slight person on top of him with a thud. Blinding white bursts of pain shot through him at the impact. "What in the absolute hell?" The shadow's voice was bristling with irritation while she tried to extract herself from his bed without injuring him further. Every movement caused a fresh burst of pain until Guy finally grabbed onto her shoulders and hissed, "Be still."

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness and sleep cleared from his brain, he realized his mistake. Furious brown eyes glared at him, though the girl herself was thankfully motionless. He could feel her heart pounding against his own as he slowly eased her weight off his chest until he could breathe again. She found her footing on the floor and darted away, then suddenly the room was awash with light, and he could see the full force of her fury.

Anger brightened her face as if she was lit from within, a flame that burned white hot to the touch. Her hair was coming loose from its bindings, soft brown waves framing her face to be the picture of righteous anger itself. "Explain what, exactly, you think you were doing." Gone was the sweet, caring voice to which he'd become accustomed, replaced instead with iron sharp tones that brooked no excuses.

"I'm sorry, I thought…" he trailed off, unable to explain his thinking without revealing what he felt was too much.

She shook her head, once, cutting off any other words before he could think to speak them. "You thought, what? That because I'm nice, because I take care of you, that must mean you can take advantage of me? That I'll just shut up and take it, because it's my job, right? It comes with the territory. That's what we do, that's what we've done for centuries, and that's why nothing ever changes! Well, let this be a lesson, my friend, I am not your plaything, here for your enjoyment. I am a professional, and I demand the respect and courtesy that every living person deserves." She stepped forward, eyes piercing his like arrows, to make sure he was paying attention. Lowering her voice to a menacing rumble which he had to strain to hear, she added, "If you ever try something like that again, may God have mercy on your soul, because I sure as hell won't." With that, she turned on her heel and marched out the door, leaving Guy in a wake of confusion with a dull, throbbing pain in his chest.


	6. Chapter 6

For some reason, I've found that it's always the strongest, toughest looking guys that are the biggest babies when it comes to being stuck with needles. You could have someone with a body covered with tattoos, and they'll still put up a fuss when you go to give them a shot or start an IV. Guy was no different, acting like I was sawing off his arm instead of simply putting in an IV. His veins were great, though, and I got it on the first try. Hopefully, he'd learned his lesson and this one would last.

Even though Lauren had said he hadn't shown too much interest in eating and drinking, I thought it would be a good idea to at least try to get him to drink something before going NPO. I knew he'd appreciated the apple juice, so maybe a popsicle would entice him even more. Plus, I was curious to see what his reaction would be- since he seemed to be unfamiliar with so many normal things, the popsicle would be an interesting experiment.

My theory was proven correct when he looked at the popsicle in his hand as if it were some alien object. Where on earth had this strange man come from? I decided to take mercy on him and give him a bit of helpful guidance. Once he seemed to figure out how to eat the popsicle, it was obvious that he was enjoying it. This felt like as good of a time as any to leave him to his own devices; unfortunately, I couldn't stay in his room the whole shift observing his strange behavior. At least he looked stable enough at the moment, so I was comfortable leaving him for a while.

After charting and taking care of some things with my other patient, I went back to Guy's room and found him sound asleep. He looked the most at peace that I'd seen him so far, the lines on his forehead and around his mouth relaxed, giving his face a more youthful appearance than normal. I wondered idly how old he was. We knew so much less about him than most of our patients. It made me uncomfortable; I was used to knowing my patients inside and out, every little thing about them that could possibly make a difference in their care.

Lost in these thoughts, I reached up to grab the blood pressure cuff at the head of the bed. He gave no sign of being aware that I was there, or of even being awake at all. But he must have been, because before I knew what was happening, there was an iron grip on my arm and I found myself sprawled on top of him, knocking the breath out of both of us.

He obviously hadn't thought this assault plan through or had overestimated his current strength level. Whatever his intentions, it was apparent that my weight on his chest was causing a good amount of pain. My attempts to get up were also making the pain worse. I'm not a monster- I don't find joy in hurting my patients, so I tried my best to cause as little discomfort as possible. I can't say that I was completely sorry that it wasn't quite working out, though.

It seemed he'd had enough. Strong hands halted my movements and I heard his sleep roughened voice in my ear, ordering me to stop squirming. I complied, though I wasn't happy about it. In the stillness, I could feel his heart racing, the warmth of his hands scorching on my arms as I glared at him. The eyes that met mine were sleepy and more than a little confused as if he wasn't sure how we had found ourselves in this position. It was apparent by the heat coming off his body that the fever was back, something I'd need to check on once this was all sorted.

Fever or no fever, this kind of behavior wasn't something to be ignored. I learned early on in my career not to be a doormat, and the moment I felt my feet touch the floor I switched on the lights and let him have it. Maybe I was harsh, but I wasn't in the mood for his excuses. There was no explanation that would make his actions okay, anyway, so I didn't want to hear it.

Maybe threatening him was taking it a little far. He seemed surprised at my anger, though, as if he had expected a different reaction. That was certainly cocky of him, like any girl should be pleased with his advances. This thought added fuel to my anger, making it hard to think rationally. I'm usually very calm in a crisis, but this was a situation that stirred some different emotion inside, one that I didn't have time to examine more closely. I needed to get out of that room, take a few breaths, clear my head for a moment. His fever could wait; it wasn't quite time for Tylenol again, anyway. And of course, I'd have to assess his incision site. That would be just my luck, having his wound dehisce or there be some other internal trauma caused by his foolishness.

Once in the hallway, I was able to think a bit more clearly. I had to admit, he didn't seem to recognize me at first. Before I left, I could see the regret plainly in his expression, though whether he regretted the action or the outcome, that wasn't clear. I sat down, mind wandering for a moment, trying to decompress so I could return and check on him. I was about to stand up and go back in when the trauma pager went off.

The code team came around the corner, making their way downstairs to get ready to meet the transport team. Dr. Williams gave me a small salute, always up for some excitement. What I wouldn't give to have been on the code team that night, instead of taking patients. Even if it meant dealing with Dr. Williams all night. Our charge nurse, Kathy, wandered over after the code team disappeared down the hall. "Your patients are pretty stable tonight, yeah?" She asked, glancing at her clipboard.

I knew what was coming. "For the moment, yeah. Though one is working on another fever."

She nodded, jotting something down before saying, "Do you think you could take this one that's coming in, at least until we can call in our standby? Everyone else is already at two, as well. One of Molly's is about to crump, and you know how Shauna complains, I don't feel like dealing with that tonight."

Of course, she knew I would suck it up and do what needed to be done. I generally wasn't one for complaining, because it never seemed to do any good. Though I guess it helped prevent getting admissions if charge wasn't in the mood to listen to whining. Sighing internally, I got up and went to prepare the room, hoping they brought this new one up at least semi-stable. Guy and his fever would have to wait just a few more extra minutes.

The ER called up report as soon as the trauma team started making their way upstairs with the patient. This one was a young woman, another penetrating abdominal injury. The similarities between her and Guy didn't end there, however. She was alone when they found her, oddly dressed, no form of identification in sight. No one had seen where she came from and had just appeared out of nowhere in the back corner of our local Walmart.

As odd as all that was, the strangest part was still to come. She seemed to be septic- no surprise, the ER nurse said, since her wound was days old, having been sewn shut by someone with limited skills and supplies, kind of like a battlefield injury. Based on the healing of the wound, they estimated the injury occurred around the same time our other mystery patient arrived. The ER had already made this connection, and the significance wasn't lost on me, of course.

"One more thing," she said, before hanging up. I could hear the elevator making its way to the floor. "She's only said one word that anyone has heard so far."

I couldn't imagine what she could have said that would be important right now, when they were about to arrive on the unit. "Well? What was it?"

She paused for dramatic effect, or possibly because she wasn't sure she should say. "Robin."

"Yes? What did the patient say?" I was getting tired of her games.

"No, that's what she said. She said 'Robin'." At that moment the trauma team rolled down the hall. I hung up the phone without responding, unsure of what to say, anyway.

The unit was suddenly a flurry of activity, people talking and calling out orders as we prepared to move the patient from the stretcher to the bed. Or, at least, that was my excuse for not noticing that Guy had slipped out of his room and started down the hall. No one else noticed either, so absorbed in their own tasks, until suddenly he was in the room, a stricken expression etched on his face.

It seemed like we all noticed him at the same time, pausing in an instant to stare at this intruder in the midst of our regular organized chaos. But he couldn't have cared less what we were thinking; every ounce of his attention was focused on the woman in the bed. She was beautiful, even in her current state, with her odd white dress cut to reveal the injury, face as still and cold as marble. She almost looked dead, though I knew she wasn't; I could see her heartbeat reading on the monitor in front of me.

None of this mattered to Guy. He stood, frozen, staring at her in a mixture of shock and despair. Before I could move toward him, to figure out what the hell he was doing out of his bed, roaming the halls on his own, he spoke.

"Marian."

A single word, sounding as if it were pulled out of him against his will. A word that seemed to carry all the pain he'd endured, all the fear and loneliness I was sure he'd felt since he had appeared. There was something else there, too, a softness that surprised me. How could one word, one moment, convey so much emotion and nuance, give so much information about this man who had so far been a mystery? Yet it did, leaving more questions than before.

Without another word, he crumpled to the floor, as if the effort of speaking at all had sapped him of his strength. His head hit the floor with a resounding _thunk_ , the sound spurring the rest of us into motion again. I could see a red stain on his gown slowly spreading. Shit bucket. Who was more important?

Thankfully Kathy stepped in. "You take care of him and we'll get her settled," she said, shooting me a 'what the hell is going on' look. I honestly had no idea myself, so I ignored it for the moment and rushed over to Guy.

"Guy? Hey, you need to wake up for me, okay?" I crouched down next to him. He looked so pale, but thankfully slowly opened his eyes, looking at me in confusion.

Glancing around, he suddenly noticed he wasn't in his bed and more, or even in his room for that matter. "Why am I on the ground?" He asked. He struggled to get up, but grimaced with the effort, reaching over to grasp at his wounded side. Alarmingly, that hand came away bloody, which at least made him seem mildly concerned.

I tried to explain what had happened but couldn't really find the words. I think he had figured out most of it; he ignored my request to stay still and let me examine him before trying to move back to his bed. I could either help him up or let him struggle to stand on his own, potentially falling down again. One fall was enough for me. It took all his strength- and mine- to stand, then when I tried to lead him back towards his room, he jerked away, moving with surprising speed and agility towards the bed where they had placed the new patient.

The pain and despair written across his face were unimaginable. It wasn't the hurt of a physical injury but reached much deeper than that. As he looked down at the young woman lying there, he seemed to visibly rip in two, straight down the middle. He grasped the side rail to steady himself, leaving a bloody handprint behind.

"What are you doing, dude?" Dr. Williams was beside him, angrily pulling him away, but was also surprised at the staying power this sick man displayed. "Robin! Come get your patient. Why is he even in here? Jesus Christ, Robin, he needs to go!" The good doctor was used to only having to focus on one patient at a time- I didn't feel like it was the right moment to remind him that Guy was his patient, as well.

As I tried to remove Guy from the situation, the woman's eyes flew open at the sound of Dr. Williams speaking my name. I don't know who she expected to find there, but it certainly wasn't Guy. Their eyes locked, his expression full of guilt and longing, hers full of unmistakable hatred. What on earth had he done to her to make her look at him in such a way?

Everyone was still for just a moment, wondering what the crap was going on, until Guy reached out, barely touching her shoulder as if to make sure she was real. "Marian," He said again.

She visibly shrunk from his touch, sending another look of pain across his features. Her voice was laced with venom when she finally spoke. "Sir Guy." The two words obviously took a lot out of her, and she wilted a bit before alarms started blaring, the sounds sending the others in the room back in motion. Dr. Williams shoved Guy back away from the bed, with a little more roughness than was probably required. Guy stumbled back; he would have fallen again had I not stepped in to catch him.

"Come on, Guy, you shouldn't be up and out of bed in the first place." Thank god he was done resisting. He just nodded numbly and allowed me to lead him back to his own room.

 _Acre, 1193_

This wasn't how she'd imagined she would die. Not here, in the holy land, by the hands of a man who had always claimed to love her. She should have known one day she would push him too far. He was a violent man- of that, there was never any doubt. She'd seen his temper and violence in action, though rarely was it directed at her. She had always considered his professed love for her as a sort of protection. Though, she supposed, it had been. He'd had ample opportunities and even valid reasons to kill her in the past. But he had always held back, protected her from himself and the others who would want to harm her.

So, it shouldn't have been a surprise when her words pushed him over the edge of anger. She saw it, the moment it all became too much. In that brief second, she wished she could take it back. But the words were out there, hanging between them, until just as suddenly his sword was between them, too. The pain wasn't there, at first. She just felt a numb shock spreading through her. Guy, for his part, looked just as stunned, and she thought he wished he could take it back, too. They stayed there for a moment, both shocked by what had happened, before he stepped back, and she slid to the ground.

Then, thankfully, Robin was rounding the corner. He took in the scene in an instant, always a quick thinker, and charged at Gisborne. _Don't worry about_ _him_ , she wanted to say, _I need you_. But the words wouldn't come out, and she struggled to even breath. Guy hardly reacted when Robin charged at him, Much tossing his scimitar to Robin and in one smooth motion, Guy was on his knees, stunned, hands clutching at the sword sticking out of his abdomen.

The sounds started to fade, and her vision blurred until Robin crouched next to her. She vaguely heard the sheriff shouting for Gisborne in the distance and wondered if Guy's death would affect the wicked man at all, or if Guy truly was just a pawn in his schemes. It was tragic that they were to die like this, her and Guy, just when everything was out in the open between them, when she finally felt free of his grasp. Djaq was there, examining her, a grim expression on her face. Everything felt dim and far away, but Marian was aware enough to understand that the king was safe. Wasn't that the most important thing, after all?

A shaky, shuddering breath sounded nearby, and she glanced over to where Guy had fallen. Robin and Djaq looked over, too, and saw the pain written on the dying man's face. Gisborne looked into Marian's eyes, as if he wanted to say something profound, but couldn't quite come up with the words. Instead he just closed his eyes, saying softly, "I'm sorry, Marian."

She didn't like the intimacy in his voice, the sadness it held. Robin didn't, either, and was starting to make another move towards Gisborne before the other man opened his eyes again. This time he looked straight at Robin, their history laid out between them, a look full of apologies and understanding. Guy spoke his final word, his tone sounding as if he was asking again for forgiveness.

"Robin." With that, he pulled the sword from his body before anyone could move to stop him. Marian had the vague thought that she would like to do the same thing, but Robin and Djaq prevented it. She was almost going to be irritated with them, but the world faded to blackness instead.


	7. Chapter 7

For some reason, he had thought she would return right away, after yelling at him and storming out of the room. It wasn't a rational thought, but he began to worry when she didn't come back. His side was still in a significant amount of pain, and he was concerned that their unfortunate encounter might have caused real damage. At the very least, she should be coming back to check on his wound. Yet she didn't come.

He heard a strange sound coming from somewhere on the other side of his door, and the low rumble of voices he couldn't make out. This amplified his anxiety; something was making him incredibly uneasy, though he couldn't put his finger on the source. He had the sudden urge to get up, to go see where Robin went, what was going on in the world outside his room. That was a terrible idea, he knew, but he decided to follow through with it anyway.

It was certainly a struggle getting out of bed. If it was difficult with the help of Bill, it was a thousand times harder to do alone. Somehow, he made it, being pulled by the unseen force that was urging him onward. It felt incredibly important that he make sure everything was alright out there, to check on Robin and see that she was safe. He had no idea why she wouldn't be- she could definitely handle herself, as she'd proven more than once. But here he was, hand on the door, preparing himself as if he were about to jump off a cliff edge.

There was a commotion in the hall, people rushing around, a burst of activity that threw him off balance. He half expected someone to catch sight of him and order him back into bed, but everyone was too busy with their own tasks to notice his presence. So he started off down the hall, spotting Robin's small frame in the fray. She was completely absorbed in what she was doing, helping move the still figure at the center of the storm. The person, as motionless as a corpse, was the center of attention. Guy glanced over to see what all the fuss was about.

Ice rushed through his veins, blurring the image of the woman he saw lying there. Marian. How was it possible? The weight of their entire history swept through the room and hit him full force in the chest, knocking the breath from his lungs. His Marian, here in this hell in which he was trapped. Suddenly there was blackness and pounding in his head that wasn't there before. He heard a familiar voice calling his name as he became aware that there was cold ground underneath him.

Robin was looking at him with eyes full of concern and, he thought, suspicion. The stabbing pain in his side had returned in full force, making him grimace and grab at the wound. The bright blood on his hand couldn't be a good sign, but somehow that was on the lower end of his concerns at the moment. Could Marian really be here? He was consumed with the need to confirm her presence- he needed to speak to her, to touch her, make sure she was real and not a figment of his twisted imagination.

Standing was again a challenge, even with Robin there to support him. She seemed terribly miffed that he was getting up at all. She definitely intended to force him back to his room, so he pulled away to get closer to the bed where Marian lay. For it was Marian, of that he had no doubt. She looked so pale and cold, so unlike herself, but there was no mistaking it. The woman he loved so desperately was right in front of him, though it shouldn't have been possible.

He was frozen, unable to move towards or away from the ghost before him. It felt as if they were back in the holy land, like he was being stabbed through once again. The spell was broken by someone attempting to pull him away, the angry voice yelling for Robin's assistance. All at once the ghost's eyes opened, looking shocked to find Guy standing over her.

In all their time together, he had never seen such open hostility in her eyes. It pained him, this outward sign of all the atrocities he'd committed against her. Maybe this was still a dream, some punishment his guilt-ridden conscience had conjured up. He reached out, just to make sure. Warm skin, flesh and bone. She flinched at his touch, another proof of reality. "Marian…" He could hardly believe it.

She glared at him, eyes fiery with hatred and something else. Disappointment, maybe? He wasn't sure, but the emotion in her voice was unmistakable. Disdain, pure and simple. She was weak, though, and all that venom took the last bit of strength she had. Suddenly everyone was moving again, and the cocksure doctor pushed Guy away again, this time succeeding, throwing him off balance. Guy expected to end up on the floor again, but someone stopped his decent. Robin, somehow always there.

All the fight was suddenly gone from his body, leaving a hollow feeling behind. Guy allowed himself to be led away. The short walk back to his room left him drained, gasping for air through the pain. Robin's brow was creased with concern while she helped him back into bed, noting the difficulty he was having with the smallest movements. "Jesus Christ, Guy. You're burning up." She smoothed the hair out of his eyes and felt his forehead, alarmed at the warmth she found there.

Quickly reconnecting the lines and wires that he had unhooked in his haste to get out of the room, she glanced at the reading on the box above the bed. Shaking her head, she put on gloves and said, "I need to look at your side, see where the blood is coming from." Guy nodded slightly but couldn't help much as she pulled up blood-stained gown to examine his wound. He grimaced as she pulled back the dressing; he wanted to look himself but couldn't find the strength to sit up enough to see the damage.

A look of relief crossed Robin's face. "Thank god, it's not as bad as I thought. I'll just get a new dressing, and let Dr. Williams know once he's done with… the other patient." Her allusion to Marian sent a new wave of pain coursing through his body. Robin was watching him intently, taking note of his distressed expression. "It's just now time for Tylenol again, too. Could you do me a favor and take it without any fuss, this time? I think we both have enough to worry about without playing those games." He nodded again, thinking it was the least he could do after all her help.

Smiling a bit, she straightened up and left the room for a moment. Guy tried to focus on controlling his breathing while she was gone, which was still haggard and harsh. Robin returned in short time, bringing the medication and dressings she spoke of. "It's almost midnight, so we'll have to figure out what we're going to do if these fevers continue since you won't be able to drink in a while." She handed him the medicine and a box of juice. The cold liquid felt good on his throat, though he felt slightly nauseous.

"There, let's get that dressing fixed up so we can keep better track of the bleeding. It already looks like it's slowing down, anyway. I've brought a new gown, too, since that ones all bloody now." Her steady stream of chatter was comforting, and he let his eyes close while she went to work. Her hands were sure and capable; it didn't take long before she was satisfied with the state of his dressing. "Alright, let's get you changed, then you can rest a bit while I go see how things are going out there." He tried to help her in removing his gown, but his arms wouldn't quite cooperate.

After a bit of a struggle, she managed to get it off. She looked him over quickly, he assumed to make sure nothing else was notably injured, and seemed satisfied with what she saw. New, clean gown on and he was good to go. "I'll turn the lights down, so you can rest. I'm also setting your bed alarm- if you try to get up on your own again it will go off. It's super loud and annoying, so don't do that." She fiddled with something at the foot of the bed before leaving the room. Then he was alone again, exhausted but unable to rest, his mind in turmoil. So many unanswered questions danced around his head.

Where were they? Why were they both here, in the same place? Guy thought if this were some sort of purgatory, Marian wouldn't be here. Of course, she belonged in heaven with the other angels. And why now, where had she been the last few days? Was Hood here somewhere, too, looking for him? That was a concern he had largely put out of his mind, thinking himself far enough removed from that danger. But Marian's presence obviously changed things.

His mind was in such turmoil he couldn't rest, though he knew he needed to keep up his strength to face whatever upcoming battles may be on the horizon. Guy didn't think his caretakers here would let anyone injure him since they seemed so invested in keeping him alive. That made him feel somewhat safer, knowing Robin was looking out for his safety. Though what kind of defenses she had against Hood, he wasn't sure.

The expression in Marian's eyes was haunting him. So much anger and hatred, and all of it deserved. He had never felt so lonely and lost in his entire life, even as a boy when his mother died. There was no one to turn to, nowhere to run. He was stuck in this strange place that he didn't understand, and apparently, now Marian was stuck here with him. Well, not with him, exactly. He felt sure that they would do everything in their power to keep them apart after his earlier display.

These thoughts ran in circles in his head until Robin returned, finding him exactly as she left him, brooding and distant. "I just need to recheck your temp," she said, placing the device under his arm. "Have you been laying here, staring at the ceiling the whole time?" She asked once she was done, nodding in satisfaction at the information she gathered. "Sweet, it's going down already,"

He wasn't sure she needed an answer but provided one when she looked at him expectantly. "Yes," he responded simply. She sighed at that, looking at him with open curiosity. He could tell she had a lot of unanswered questions of her own. The sudden urge to be able to talk to someone was so strong, it nearly took his breath away. "What do you want to know?"

It was clear the question caught her completely off guard. "That obvious, huh?" She asked. He just nodded, motioning for her to continue. "So… you know her, then? The new patient?"

That wasn't necessarily what he expected her first question to be, but supposed it was as valid as any other. "Yes," he paused a moment to gather his thoughts, decided how much to reveal. "We were to be married, a very long time ago."

She was clearly surprised. "I take it that didn't quite work out, then."

This enormous understatement made him smile. "I guess you could say that, yes." Her returning smile warmed his heart; he guessed she had forgiven him for their earlier encounter, at least for now. He decided to ask a question of his own while she thought about her next one. "Is Marian alright?"

The question apparently made her uncomfortable. She looked away for a second before saying, "I can't legally tell you that." But she looked in his eyes for a moment, as if trying to tell him without saying anything. She was okay for now, he thought. He took some comfort in that information. Robin was still looking at him, contemplating. "Do you love her?"

Her cheeks colored as soon as the words left her mouth, and she glanced down. The question hit Guy like a sack of rocks, knocking the breath out of him. Did he love her? At one time, he wouldn't have hesitated in answering a resounding, "Yes." But now, after everything they had been through, everything he'd done? Could you claim to love someone yet try to kill them? Had he ever loved her at all? It was a question he wasn't ready to answer, one that Robin seemed to have regretted asking at all.

"I'm sorry," she said, finally looking back at him. "That wasn't appropriate." He could see she meant her apology sincerely. His continued silence made her increasingly more uncomfortable, but he was having trouble forming words at the moment.

Finally, he took a deep breath. "I think that is enough questions for now," he said, struggling to offer up a smile of reassurance. A deep ache had settled into his chest as he worked through the feelings he'd been left with at Marian's appearance. Where he had once felt the strange desire for company, now he just wanted to be left alone with his thoughts.

Robin seemed to sense this and was apparently more than happy to leave him alone. One awkward excuse later, and she was gone. The solitude wasn't as comforting as it usually was; his thoughts were too loud in the comparative silence that was left after Robin rushed away. Guy closed his eyes, trying to find a measure of calm to use as a refuge in the storm of this strange place. He eventually fell asleep, imagining Marian in a similar room, similar bed just steps down the hall. She was so close he could feel her presence, and yet so very, very far away.

 _Acre, 1193_

Heaven felt a lot like the holy land. Though, that made sense, in a way. Isn't heaven itself a sort of holy land? But did it have to be so hot, so dry, so sandy? One would think God could have made it a bit more comfortable. It was, after all, his home. And it was supposed to be someplace that people look forward to going. So far, she was not impressed with her new heavenly abode.

Unless this wasn't heaven. The thought struck her as funny. She had been so sure she was good and holy enough to end up in heaven and hadn't even considered the possibility that she might be someplace far, far worse. It wouldn't be unreasonable, after all the things she had done, including her final act in taunting Guy. Maybe she did deserve to be in hell.

A low murmur of familiar voices pulled her from her thoughts, bringing further awareness to her surroundings. The sandy ground was uncomfortable beneath her. Attempting to shift her weight caused a shard pain to shoot through her abdomen. Her small cry of pain alerted the voices of her consciousness, and they came running.

"Marian! Praise God!" Robin was suddenly beside her, clutching her hand with tears in his eyes. Djaq was there too, on her other side, earnestly examining her injury. So, she was alive, then, though just barely, judging from the way she felt.

Finally, Djaq was satisfied that everything was a well as it should be, and she sat back, nodding. "As long as no fever takes hold, she will live." Both Marian and Robin found this reassuring, though the danger was not over. Djaq stood up, and with a small nod left the tent without another word, leaving the other two alone.

Robin looked down at her with a small smile, touching her cheek. "You gave us quite a scare there, Marian." She leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and enjoying the warm feel of his palm against her face.

A thought suddenly occurred to her. "The king!" She cried. Was he alive, as well? Was all this pain for nothing? Robin's smile widens as he nods, causing relief to course through her body. The king was okay. She was alive, as well. Maybe everything would be alright. There was someone she was forgetting about, though.

Guy. "Sir Guy, is he…?" She couldn't bring herself to say the words.

The dark look that crossed Robin's face at her question all but answered it, as he quickly stood up and paced around the tent. "Gisborne is dead," he said, finally, turning to see her reaction. She wasn't sure what to make of the sharp pain that pierced her heart at the news. She tried to shake it off, but Robin's intense gaze was making her more confused and overwhelmed tears pricked the corner of her eyes.

Of course, her tears didn't escape Robin's notice. He frowned, shook his head, and walked out of the tent. Now she was alone, and the silence of the desert closed around her, suffocating. Guy was really dead, then. She knew she shouldn't feel sad for the loss of a man who had almost killed her himself. And yet, somewhere along the way, she had developed a measure of fondness for the black knight. That wasn't a feeling she was comfortable with, and the fact that Robin was aware of it obviously made him upset.

It did not matter now, though. The look in Guy's eye in their final moments together carried all of the sadness and pain that had filled their relationship. And now it was all gone, carried away like sand in the desert wind. She hoped Guy was in a better place, somehow, though that was doubtful. Marian lay there, silent tears tracking down her cheeks, and wondered if things would ever feel okay again.


	8. Chapter 8

Fevers are frustrating things. So important to our bodies, but so irritating. Especially the ones like Guy's, that moved up and down with medication but always returned with a vengeance. I'd need to keep a close eye on him to make sure things didn't start circling the drain. At least his wound looked better than I expected. Hopefully, the bleeding would lighten up more as he rested- there were no obvious signs of dehiscence, nothing poking out where it shouldn't be. All good signs. I just didn't know what we would do if his fevers kept trending the same.

It was obvious that he was shaken, like a bomb had been dropped into his life. A ghost from the past tends to do that, I guess, but where they both came from was still baffling. Thankfully this time he took the Tylenol, no complaints. Small miracles and all that. After I got his dressing changed, we needed to get a new gown on him; a simple task that was somehow far more difficult than it needed to be. This was a perfect opportunity to make sure nothing else was hurt during his escapades.

His previously uneven breathing had steadied some, and from his strong shoulders down to his chiseled abdomen, everything else seemed fine so far. He was a beautiful man, no doubt about it. Of course, it's not exactly ethical as a nurse to admire a patient's hot body, but it was impossible not to notice. After he was all changed and resettled, I left him to rest while I went to face whatever was going on in the other room.

The new patient- Marian, I guess- was mostly settled and resting. She was also febrile, but they made her NPO because we currently had no idea what was going on in her damaged body. Dr. Williams walked out of her room as I was looking over her chart.

"What the actual hell was all that, Robin?" he said, looking both irritated and intrigued.

I wished I could answer that question myself. "I guess they know each other, from what I can gather." There wasn't much more I could say, other than the obvious.

Dr. Williams smiled a little. "Yeah, I figured that out. See what you can find out from the two of them later because this shit's weird. I'm going to put in a social work consult, as well. I just hope we don't need to get the police involved any more than they already are."

A social work consult sounded like a good idea, in theory. Maybe they could weasel out some more information from our two mystery patients. "So, what's the plan then for our new friend?" I asked since I'd been a little preoccupied with my own mess when they were getting her settled.

"I put in for a stat CT, and we'll plan accordingly. She's either working on an abscess in there or something is leaking. The on-call surgeon is waiting by to see the results, but I have a feeling she's going to end up in the OR sooner rather than later." He didn't seem bothered by any of this, eating up the drama. "She's stable for now, though. I'm waiting on pharmacy to approve IV Tylenol for tonight, at least until we know what we're dealing with."

I nodded, having had the same thoughts myself. "Oh, Guy's incision-"

"Guy, huh?" He cut me off. "I heard something about that being his name. He's bleeding, right? I saw that earlier," he said dismissively.

It always irritated me when he did that. "It's not as bad as it could have been, but since you're here, I thought you might want to take a look at it," I said pointedly, nodding towards his room.

The doctor sighed, looking as if that was the last thing he wanted to do in the world. Just then his pager went off, and he shrugged, smiling. "Whoops, gotta go answer that! I'll come take a look later, I promise. Call me if anything changes with either of those two!" With that he took off, grinning over his shoulder at his luck. I just shook my head and went in to check on Marian.

It was freezing in her room; someone had cranked down the air while we waited for the Tylenol approval, in an effort to fight her fever. She was almost perfectly still and looked deathly pale. Her breaths were shallow and light, difficult to see though visible on the monitor. She hardly stirred as I did my assessment, taking note of a healed scar on her abdomen in addition to the newer and larger wound. The skin around the rudimentary sutures was red and irritated. Her pulse was frantic but weak, like a bird's heart beating.

Thankfully, Kathy had gotten everything set up while I was preoccupied, so there wasn't much to do but wait until the imaging lab was ready to take her to CT. By the time I was done with my assessment and making sure everything was settled, pharmacy had approved the Tylenol and we were good to go. One less thing to worry about; I figured the medication would knock her fever right out.

Speaking of, it was time to check on Guy again. It looked like he hadn't moved a bit in the last hour, eyes wide open and staring straight at the ceiling. At least his fever was coming down again; maybe this time it would stay down. I must have been staring at him a bit too long because it startled me when he spoke. "What do you want to know?" Was he really giving me a chance to get some answers? There were so many questions, it was hard to decide on what to ask first. I decided on something simple and fairly obvious.

"We were to be married, a very long time ago." I don't know what answer I was expecting, but it certainly wasn't that. This conversation was already off to an awkward start, so I thought to try and lighten the mood. It apparently worked, since he gave me one of the biggest smiles I'd seen yet on his face. He had a very nice smile, disarming and full of charm. It changed the lines of his face, making them softer, more handsome, somehow.

It's always harder to come up with something on the spot; I'd had questions running through my mind for days but couldn't think of them now that I finally had the chance to ask them. Guy must have gotten tired of waiting, or maybe his intent all along was to get some answers of his own. "Is Marian alright?" His voice was desperate, tinged with fear, and his eyes were hungry for information. Of course, I couldn't answer that, legally and honestly. She was fine for the moment, but none of knew if that would hold.

Then again, I didn't want him to worry. There was nothing he could do about it, anyway. As he searched my face, looking for some meaning behind my evasive answer, I tried to imbue some sense of comfort into my expression. His own face was somewhat understanding, though still etched with concern and something else. Guilt? I wondered what he had to feel guilty about, what had happened between the two of them that landed them both in the hospital under mysterious circumstances, but that's not the inquiry that popped out of my mouth.

"Do you love her?" The question came out of nowhere; I didn't even remember forming the thought, much less the words. It was highly inappropriate, to start, and not even relevant. The four words had a physical impact on Guy, like a deer in headlights, freezing up and bracing for impact. I couldn't watch the inevitable wreckage. We were both quiet for a long moment, until I started to feel lightheaded from the stillness of the silence. Finally working up the courage to look back at him, I saw a visible wave of pain wash over his features before they settled back into their usual unreadable expression.

"I'm sorry," I said, though the words felt wholly inadequate. God, I was so sorry. The urge to run was making my legs itch, but that would be even more embarrassing. I wasn't a child who could just run away from uncomfortable situations. My toes curled in my shoes as I forced myself to stay.

Finally, he took mercy on me and offered up a grim smile. "I think that is enough questions for now." With this proclamation, the awkward spell was broken, and I gave myself permission to escape. He seemed just as relieved by my hurried departure. What on earth had I been thinking? My entire body felt flushed with mortification.

The phone rang, pulling my thoughts away from my utter humiliation. Someone in imaging had perfect timing; they were ready for Marian. Since she needed constant monitoring, I went down with her. She didn't wake up the whole trip down, and her eyes only fluttered a bit when we moved her for the scan. I was just rolling her back into the room when her eyes slowly opened, looking around in confusion.

"Who are you?" She asked, sizing me up. Her voice was refined and delicate, even with a dry throat and the scratchiness that came from disuse.

I locked the bed into place and gave her my full attention. "I'm Robin."

Wide green eyes narrowed into suspicion as she said firmly, "No, you're not."

This ridiculous statement brought on a burst of uncontrollable giggles, the cherry on top of a night that had been so completely bizarre. For a moment I wondered if this was just some absurd dream, and any minute I would wake up to my alarm blaring, telling me it was time to rush and get ready. But, of course, it wasn't.

Marian wasn't at all amused by my amusement. "Where's Robin? What has Guy done with him?" She demanded angrily, mustering up a lot of gumption for someone so sickly. Her question put an abrupt stop to my laughter.

"There's no one else named Robin here, just me. I'm your nurse," I said in my best calming nurse voice. She seemed to understand that I wasn't trying to pull a fast one on her, collapsing back into her pillow, exhausted. She looked pale and felt clammy as I reconnected her to the room monitors. Elevated heart rate, low blood pressure, hands and feet like icicles. Maybe a little delirious. None of those were good signs.

A murmur pulled me out of my musing as I was checking her pulses. "He's alive," she whispered, a frown on her face.

Curiosity was eating me alive. "What was that?" I asked, moving closer to hear her reply.

"He's supposed to be dead," she said, fixing her slightly dazed stare on me.

It was wrong to take advantage of her confusion in order to get answers. I knew that. And yet, if she wanted to talk, who was I to deprive her of that? "Who, Guy?" I tried to sound disinterested, not wanting to arouse her suspicion.

Marian closed her eyes; for a moment I thought she had fallen asleep, but then she spoke softly again. "Sir Guy." This time the words were missing the fiery hatred that they had earlier. Instead, they were laced with pain and disappointment. "Robin told me he was dead."

By this point, it was obvious that she wasn't talking about me. Somewhere out there, another Robin was tied up in the mess of these two strange people. It made sense, actually explained a lot about the events of the last few days, like why Guy was calling out my name when I found him. But where was this other Robin, and if he was so important to both Marian and Guy, then why wasn't he here?

She really was asleep, now, and the phone was ringing out at the nurses' station. Apparently, no one was out there to answer it, so I left Marian's room to pick it up. Turns out it was for me, anyway.

"I'm calling to report a critical lab for Trauma, Albuquerque in room 205." Crap. Low hemoglobin and hematocrit. Not surprising, considering her vital signs, but not ideal. I was about to call the doctor when he walked around the corner with the surgeon.

Waving a sheet of paper, he said, "We're taking her to surgery for an ex-lap, going to try and consent her now." I quickly told him about her labs, looking through her chart to see if someone had the foresight to do a type and screen with her other labs. Miracle of miracles, it was already done. One less thing for me to worry about. Dr. Williams and Dr. Coleman went into Marian's room while I updated the charge nurse on the plan.

When they were done, Dr. Williams decided he finally had a minute to go check on Guy. "You two seem to get on well together, come in with me in case he gets a little punchy." I rolled my eyes and followed him inside Guy's room, stomach heavy with dread at the prospect of facing him after our earlier awkwardness. Maybe it was better to have Dr. Williams with me.

Surprisingly, he was asleep when we walked in. I hadn't thought he would be able to get much rest after everything that had happened so far. It was shaping up to be a very eventful shift. I hated to wake him, but Dr. Williams had no such qualms, flipping on the exam lights above the bed with no preamble. "Alright, let's take a look at the dressing." Guy's transition from sleep to fully awake was almost instantaneous, as if he were used to being awoken in the middle of the night and needed to be always on guard.

Guy scowled at the doctor as he pulled up his gown to look at the wound on his side, managing to avoid looking at me altogether. I didn't blame him; I still felt the heat of embarrassment on my cheeks from our conversation. Dr. Williams looked at the dressing, which was still clean white on the outside. "I won't take it off now since you did such a good job," he said, turning towards me. "But it looks good. Let me know if anything changes, of course. You know what to look for."

I nodded in response as the doctor straightened up and clapped his hands once, a signal that he felt his job here was done. "Alright, then. I'm going to get a status report from Dr. Coleman on our other patient," he said with a glance towards Guy. It was obvious who he was talking about, but Guy was making a pointed effort to act like there was no one in the room but himself. Dr. Williams just looked at me and shrugged, then walked out.

It was usually nice when the doctors trusted our opinions, but sometimes I just wanted someone else to bear the responsibility. He wasn't wrong; I did know what to look for. It was a heavy burden, though, to be the person in charge of keeping someone alive. Doctors, patients, families, all counting on you to keep constant watch, smiling all the while. I was suddenly exhausted, and shift was barely half over.

 _Acre, 1193_

Marian was alive, the king was safe, Gisborne was finally out of the picture. It was everything Robin could have wanted. So why wasn't he satisfied? There was that feeling, the one that started in between his shoulder blades, itching down his back and making his legs restless. It started when he thought of going back to Locksley, finally settling down with Marian and putting his adventures behind him.

That was the problem. Robin couldn't imagine the normal life he was supposed to have. He had a hero's heart, had never been one to sit idly by while things went wrong in the world. Sure, the king was safe, for now, but that was only the beginning of England's problems. There was still so much to do.

He looked at Marian, sleeping peacefully, pale but beautiful. His warrior. Would she ever be satisfied with settling down, either? He didn't think so. She was a fighter, not blind to the evils of the world, the wrongs they could right. Her experience as the Night Watchman exposed her to far more cruelty and pain than most noble women. She wouldn't sit twiddling her thumbs when there was work to be done. No, the quiet life wasn't in the cards for them.

A whisper pulled him out of his musings. "Robin?" Marian blinked up at him with sleep blurred eyes.

"Yes, my love, I'm here." He moved closer, taking the hand she held out weakly.

She gave his hand a small squeeze. "I am glad for that," she said with a small, tired smile. "What were you thinking about?"

Robin smoothed back her hair before gently cupping her cheek. "Just this amazing, strong woman I know." Her laugh was cut short by a grimace, causing alarm to shoot through his heart. "Are you alright, Marian?"

Batting away his concerned hands, she nodded. "Djaq said I'm fine, remember? That doesn't mean this has been a pleasant experience, the whole being stabbed thing." They fell into an uncomfortable silence at the allusion to Guy and his murderous intentions.

"Do you need me to go get Djaq?" Robin asked, finally breaking the stillness.

Marian sighed before shaking her head. "No, stay. Tell me more about this wonderful woman you were thinking about. Is she very beautiful?"

He smiled, glad for the subject change. This wasn't the time for them to discuss the sensitive subject of Gisborne and the confusing feelings they both seemed to have. No, that could wait. Better to avoid it, for now, wait until her health was restored and they were far from this land of bloodshed and pain. Far, far away from the ghosts of the holy land. Maybe he was ready to be back at Locksley if it meant outrunning the demons that he'd created in this so-called holy land.


	9. Chapter 9

Pulled awake by the sudden brightness of the room, Guy was less than pleased to see the cocky man at his bedside with Robin. He was even more irritated when the man announced that he wanted to look at the wound on Guy's side, not asking for permission before pulling at the blankets that covered him. Robin's presence in the room added to the tension he felt, awkward and uncomfortable after their earlier conversation.

Relief filled him as the other man straightened up, signaling that he wasn't going to disturb Guy's wound any further. He wasn't overly fond of the tone the doctor used when speaking to Robin, though his words were comforting enough. There was just something about the man that Guy didn't like, a piece of his demeanor that rubbed him the wrong way. It wasn't just the general cockiness of his attitude- Guy was used to that, even carried the same trait himself. But it was obvious that he considered himself better than everyone else, even Robin, as if other people were beneath him.

He tried to push down his curiosity when the doctor mentioned the "other patient", knowing at once that he was speaking of Marian. It almost seemed as if the doctor was baiting him, but Guy wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a reaction. Instead, he stared at the ceiling, hoping that the two intruders would leave him alone once more with his thoughts. The door opened and closed, but Guy could sense that he still wasn't alone.

When his eyes landed back on Robin, she seemed to have aged in the last few hours. Her mouth was weighted down in the corners, shoulders slumped as if a great, invisible burden rested upon them. She swayed a bit, reminding him of a sapling that could be blown over in the slightest storm. It was a completely different image from the strong, capable front she usually put up. He wondered at the horrors she must have seen in this hell in which he and Marian were trapped. It seemed as if he'd been here for years; yet, Robin had obviously been here much longer. What struggles had she endured in that time?

"Are you alright?" He hadn't realized he intended to speak until the words crossed his lips.

Robin seemed surprised, too, coming out her daze with a small shake of her head. "What? Oh, yeah. I'm fine." With that statement, she transformed, building her strong armor back up before his eyes. Back straightened, a smile on her face, tired eyes brightening through their exhaustion. Guy was amazed at her ability to appear as if everything was just wonderful, even though he knew it wasn't.

Moving to turn off the lights, Robin glanced back at him one more time. "Are you still feeling okay? Can I get you anything?" Guy quickly shook his head in response to her question. He didn't feel great, but there wasn't anything she could do about that now. He certainly didn't want any of the elixir they were giving him before; now, more than ever, he needed to be on guard. There was no telling who else would appear in this strange world.

For some reason, Robin was hesitating by the door, as if she wanted to say something. Or maybe as if she didn't quite want to leave him alone again. That may have been wishful thinking on his part. He wasn't thrilled with the idea of being alone with his thoughts once more. "Could you leave the door open?" He asked suddenly. His cheeks felt warm when he saw her surprised expression, this time from embarrassment rather than fever. "The solitude is making my brain feel a little addled," he said quickly, hoping she understood.

He was rewarded with a small smile, the first real one he'd seen since their awkward exchange earlier. "Of course, but the noisiness out here may make it hard to get any more sleep," she said, pulling the door fully open. He had a view of the desk area where he imagined Robin sat while she wasn't in his room and a few closed doors across the hall. Neither of those doors belonged to the room where Marian was being held. Guy wondered what sort of people were behind them, where they came from.

"I don't think I'll be getting much more sleep tonight, either way," he said truthfully, the thoughts turning in his head making it hard to imagine sleeping. Besides, his earlier nap had been somewhat refreshing, considering that he was used to going with little sleep. Robin accepted this without argument, nodding with the understanding that only someone who was also accustomed to too few hours of rest could have. She looked at him for a long moment, her expression unreadable for once, before glancing at one of the boxes above the bed.

Finally, she came to some sort of decision, but before she could act on it, the doctor was in the doorway, motioning her out to the hall. She left without another word, whatever she had been about to say forgotten. Guy could hear them through the open door, but their voices were low, and he struggled to make out the words, catching just a few. Then, more voices coming down the hall, and a few figures in strange blue clothing and blue hats appeared. Robin greeted them before leading them out of sight, the sounds mixing back into the general hum of the building.

The sudden desire to be outside hit him out of nowhere. He couldn't think of a time when he'd spent so much time indoors, the realization making him feel suffocated. The air of his room was stale and stuffy, nothing like the crisp country air he usually breathed. How long had it been since he'd seen the sun, since he'd been outside of the walls of his jail? There was no way to know for sure. The idea consumed him, eating away at him until his body felt explosive with the need for trees and sky.

Could he make it on his own? He'd gotten out of bed and down the hall before, but that had taken almost all of his strength, leaving him more weakened than ever. Yet, he also couldn't imagine that anyone would let him out if he asked, even Robin. This left him no other option- he decided to give it a try. Sitting up was easier than he'd thought. The dull ache in his side was still there, but he was getting used to it now. His arms and legs were weak and shaking, not even half as powerful as he knew them to be.

As he slowly moved his legs to the side of the bed, Guy noticed the sunrise peeking through the window of his room. Somewhere along the way, his brain made the connection that daytime meant Robin would be leaving soon. He wondered who would take her place as his jailer today- would it be that awful woman, Lauren, from the day before?

The sunrise was calling for him, soft oranges and reds reaching out like a long-lost friend. He stood without thinking, grunting at the effort, before being startled by the blaring sound coming from his bed. Robin was at his side in an instant, forehead creased with irritation as she pushed him firmly back onto the bed. "What did I say about getting up on your own?" She asked angrily while fiddling with something at the foot of the bed, making the room fall blissfully silent again.

Guy suddenly remembered her warning from earlier, when she said there would be a loud alarm if he got out of bed. She wasn't kidding; his ears were still ringing, though the sound was gone. "I'm sorry," he said, sheepishly looking away from her piercing gaze. "The sunrise… I just wanted a better view. It feels like a long time since I've seen one." She looked to see the sunrise of which he spoke, her expression softening.

"You could sit in the chair by the window, for a bit, if you feel up to it," she said, gesturing towards the armchair which was situated in the far corner of the room. It wasn't the same as going outside, but Guy appreciated the suggestion and decided to take her up on the offer.

A few moments later, she had pulled the chair towards the window and was standing in front of him with her hands out, waiting to help him move to the chair. He hesitated, wondering if the alarm would sound again when he stood. "Don't worry, I turned the alarm off," she said as if she'd read his mind. When he nodded, Robin grabbed under his forearms, letting his hands rest on top of her own arms. Her hands were warm and soft, yet powerful as she helped him stand.

He hadn't realized just how short she was before, but it was strikingly obvious as she stood in front of him and guided him gently towards the chair before helping him lower himself down into the seat. Standing, the top of her head came just to his shoulders. She seemed so delicate, though he knew her to be strong and capable. They stayed there, quiet, watching the sunrise over the trees, her hand resting on the back of his chair. Guy could see her small, graceful fingers in his peripheral vision. If he turned his head just slightly, his forehead would be resting on them.

It was a ridiculous thought, of course, but one that he couldn't shake once it entered his mind. What did he have to lose? He'd already lost everything. Why not take whatever small comfort he could gain in this terrible place? With one small movement, the warmth of her hand made contact with his temple. He didn't dare glance up at her; instead, he kept his eyes fixed firmly on the sunrise, waiting to see how she would respond. She stayed still for a few breaths, long enough that he wondered if she'd even noticed.

Sighing quietly, she finally moved, brushing her fingers softly down his cheek, her thumb tracing the stubble on his jaw. The small gesture raised the hairs on his arm, though he was anything but cold at the moment. He closed his eyes, basking in the gentleness of her touch as she smoothed back an errant lock of hair from his forehead. Then she was gone- he knew it without opening his eyes, felt the coldness return when she left the room.

The sun warmed his face as he sat there, eyes closed, heart pounding from the momentary glimpse of humanity he'd just experienced. It was the most alive he'd felt in ages, though he knew it was wrong. He didn't deserve to feel this way, especially not when Marian was lying on death's door, put there by his own cruel actions. But he could still feel the whisper of Robin's touch, a solitary sign that he continued to exist, that someone cared. That feeling warmed him more than the morning sun.

He stayed like that until shift change, when Robin came in with the nurse who would be with him during the day. Thankfully, it was a new girl, not Lauren. Guy wasn't sure he could handle another day with the surly daytime nurse. This new girl seemed friendly enough, if a little anxious. "This is Bailey, she's going to take care of you today," Robin's tired voice washed over him. "Be nice to her- she usually works on the floor and was kind enough to come help us out today." The new girl smiled a bit at this while she examined the tube in his arm and looked at the machine it was attached to.

"I'll be back in a bit to do vitals and get you ready for CT," she said in a soft, timid voice. Guy had no idea what that meant, shooting Robin a questioning look in response.

She caught onto his confusion. "Don't worry, it's just a scan to make sure everything is healing properly," she said. "I meant to tell you earlier," her cheeks colored a bit here, "but I forgot." He wondered when she had meant to tell him, if it was when he had grabbed her in his sleep or when she'd asked about Marian. His own face felt warm at the thought.

Shaking off the awkward memories, Guy tried to smile at the timid girl. He could tell she was nervous, making him wonder what Robin had told her about him. She was from the mysterious place called "the floor", which Robin had mentioned. Were all the caretakers this anxious and mousey in that place? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad if he could bend them to his will. That certainly wasn't the case in his current location.

Robin's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "I'm not back for a couple days," she said, sounding sorry, though he wasn't sure if the hidden apology was for him or Bailey.

Either way, Bailey shrugged in response. "It's okay. Sounds like we may be transferring to the floor anyhow. Have a good few days off!" With that she left the room, leaving Robin standing uncomfortably in the doorway. She glanced over her shoulder and closed the door quietly before walking over to Guy.

"Do you want me to help you back to bed before I leave?" She asked. He was actually enjoying the normalcy of sitting up but could tell she was looking for an excuse to stay longer, so he nodded. "My friend, Jacqueline, will be here tonight," she said as he slowly stood, her nearness making him feel a little off balance. "I'll try to make sure she's your nurse tonight. She'll take good care of you."

There was something behind her words, a hint of anxiety he didn't quite understand. "What's wrong?" He asked after she'd helped him settle back into bed.

She averted her eyes before he could try to read what was there. "Nothing, don't worry. I just wanted to make sure you'll be okay, you know, while I'm not here." She blushed again. "Not that I think someone else won't take good care of you! I just… Don't want to have to worry about you while I'm off. Not that I would just sit around worrying about you, otherwise." She realized she was rambling and finally stopped herself short. A quick huff and she turned on her heel and walked out without another word of goodbye.

 _Acre, 1193_

They had been warned about the potential for the fever to take hold, but everyone was hoping that wouldn't happen. When it did, it swept through Marian's body like a sand storm, scorching her skin, drying her lips. She radiated with the heat that seemed to be burning her body alive. It was only a few days before she seemed to be beyond the reach of even the most skilled healer.

Sometimes it was worse to be given hope and have it wrenched away than to have no hope at all. Robin almost wished Marian had died right away- seeing her like this, delirious and in pain while they waited for her to move on into the next world, it broke his heart over and over again. The moments when she seemed to get better, only to succumb to the fever once more, left him reeling, like a flag whipped around in the desert wind.

For Marian to die here in the Holy Land seemed especially cruel. To die in the same place as her murderer, this place that wasn't her home. A place in which she wasn't supposed to be in the first place. Robin was by her side as much as possible now, praying to every god he knew by name, and some he didn't know. Either save her or end her torture. This pain was too much.

In a moment of clarity, late one night, Marian looked up at him, her voice startling him from his silent prayers. "I love you, Robin. I've always loved you." Weak hands squeezed his, and in her eyes, Robin could see some unknown force pulling her away.

"Marian, love, please…" but he knew his pleading was useless. It was time for her to go. Robin held her close until the moment he knew she was gone, a flame extinguished just as suddenly as it had been lit. She was gone, but Robin had the strange comforting feeling that they would find each other again, not in the world but in another. That single thought gave him the strength to stand, to move forward.

On his feet again, he was angry. Gisborne hadn't even had the decency to stay alive long enough for Robin to satisfy his need for vengeance. Instead, he'd died a quick death, one nowhere near as agonizing as Marian's. It made his blood boil; so much anger needed an outlet. Robin knew exactly where to direct his anger- the man at the root of all this cruelty. The Sheriff of Nottingham.


	10. Chapter 10

The deep timbre of his voice pulled me from my musings. A patient's room wasn't the place to be contemplating your life choices, anyway. "Are you alright?" It was a simple question, but one with a much more complex answer. I blinked a few times to clear my head, straightened up, and smiled. There was no need to let Guy see what sort of toll this night had taken on me so far.

I wasn't the only one that had been affected by the events of the shift, either. Guy looked exhausted and miserable. I knew he wouldn't accept pain medicine or anything of that sort, but I wished there was something I could do to help. Above all, he looked lonely. That's why I agreed to leave the door open- not something I'd usually do under the circumstances; a lot of important conversations take place in the hallways of an ICU, so it's usually best to keep things closed up. But the desperation in Guy's eyes when he asked tugged at my heart a bit.

The request did seem out of the norm for him, though, making me wonder if he was already starting to spike another fever. It wouldn't be surprising after all the excitement from earlier. When I glanced at the clock, I realized how late- or, rather, early, it was. The night had flown by. The Tylenol from earlier would be fully out of his system by now. But his heart rate wasn't elevated, his breathing was even. Maybe he was just lonely, after all. Plus, his room was right in front of the nurse's station. Having the door open would let me keep a closer watch, to make sure he didn't get into any more trouble.

Speaking of trouble, it made me wonder what exactly had happened between Guy, Marian, and this other Robin. As a naturally nosey person, I was practically dying to know but was torn between curiosity and professionalism. I'd almost decided to just say screw it and ask anyway when Dr. Williams reappeared. "Anesthesia is on their way up," he said, having the common sense to keep his voice low after noticing the open door to Guy's room. He didn't have to elaborate, I knew what to do from there. Time to call report to OR, get Marian ready to roll down. I'd be at home and in bed before they got through with her, though whether I'd be able to sleep was a different thing altogether.

When that was finally done, I thought to sit down and finish up some paperwork. My charting for the night was going to be horrendous, not to mention that I had several required education units that were almost past their due date. There hadn't been any time to even start on those. Before I could sit down, though, the blaring of a bed alarm pulled me to attention.

Of course, it was coming from Guy's room. I don't know why I thought the threat of an alarm would sway him if he decided he was getting out of bed on his own. There he was, standing unsteadily beside the bed, looking confused at the sound.

He just wanted to see the sunrise. Such a simple, wholesome request, I couldn't deny it. Sitting in a chair would probably do him some good, too, so I helped get him up to the chair and situated in prime sunrise viewing position. He was shaky and unbalanced, tall enough that our height difference made the transfer a bit awkward. We made it work, though, and soon enough he was settled in, transfixed by the sky.

It was a beautiful sunrise. Working nights, I often missed both sunrise and sunset. It was the small moments like this that I got to see them, standing in a patient room, enjoying the stillness of the morning before the day shift arrived. Though, a lot of mornings, there wasn't a calm moment to be found for appreciating the painted sky.

So, I stopped, soaking in the calmness. One patient in OR and out of my hands, the other somewhat stable and comfortable. And above all, the quietness- it was refreshing in a way that so few things are. Resting without sleeping, a moment like that space between dreams and the real world. That's what it felt like, bathing in the warm orange light of the sunrise. It felt like falling in love.

I wasn't alone in my thoughts, caught up in the dreamlike quality of the moment. When Guy rested his head on my hand, I thought it might have been an accident. But he didn't move, his temple warm against my fingers. Every nerve in my hand felt electrified, and I could feel a pulse radiating up my arm, though I wasn't sure if it were mine or his. He didn't look at me, keeping his eyes focused on the window.

The firm set of his jaw and tightness around his eyes spoke of the burdens he carried. I wanted to smooth away that tension, to comfort this world-weary man. Irritational, impulsive—not words I would usually use to describe myself. But the contrast of smooth skin and coarse beard as I caressed his face told a different story. It would be a lie to say that I didn't enjoy the way his eyes closed, relaxing into my touch, letting his guard down.

Boundaries are important. And I was crossing every line I had ever set for myself as a nurse. It was too much. Feelings don't matter, mine or his; rules are made for a reason. I needed to get out of there. Out in the hall, I stood for a while, fingers tingling with the ghosts of sensations. The guilty feelings were at war with the warmth and pleasure in my heart. This was definitely going to be a problem.

Trying to shake off the conflicting emotions, I went to look at the assignment sheet for the day. Marian was assigned to Beth, one of our senior ICU nurses. That was good; I knew she could handle whatever the day threw at her. A float would be getting Guy, however. It made sense, in a way; the cross-trained nurses always got the "easier" patients. On paper, Guy was certainly easier than most, probably transferring to the floor within the next day. I wasn't so sure he was a classically easy patient in practice, though. But Bailey had floated to us several times, enough that I thought she'd be okay. She was just a bit shy and timid, not the best choice for someone with Guy's temperament.

Regardless of what I thought, the assignment was made. It was almost never productive to argue with a charge nurse's assignments, especially over something intangible like personality clashes. I would just make sure that Bailey knew what she was dealing with, though I didn't want to scare her, either. It was a fine line between painting an accurate picture of the situation and scaring the living daylights out of a poor float nurse. But Bailey could handle herself. I hoped.

Report took forever, as it always did with a float nurse. I didn't blame Bailey for the millions of questions she had, trying my best to answer them in a factual manner, without inserting my personal opinions or playing up the drama. Lord knew the situation was dramatic enough without embellishment. When we were finally done, Bailey straightened up and said "Okay, let's do this," looking for all the world like she was about to slay a dragon or defeat the Huns.

Guy was right where I had left him, thankfully. I had been fairly confident that he wouldn't try to get up on his own again but was still worried in the back of my mind. He was still sitting there, though, watching as the sun appeared fully in the sky. Bailey faltered a bit when she saw him, shooting me a look that said I hadn't elaborated enough on how attractive he was. She was quick to regain composure, though, as I introduced them.

When she mentioned the CT, I suddenly remembered that I hadn't really explained that to Guy. Crap. I usually tried so hard to keep my patients up to date on their plan of care, but that must have slipped through the cracks somewhere in the madness of the night. I quickly tried to clear up his confusion, powering through the awkwardness. He seemed a little embarrassed himself, which was oddly comforting.

Then it was almost time for me to leave. I told Bailey I wasn't back that night; it would have made her life a lot easier if I was since she wouldn't have to give the full report on Guy to the next nightshift nurse. This also let Guy know that I wouldn't be seeing him that night, potentially ever again, if they ended up sending him to the floor. That thought gave me pause. Could this really be the last moments we would spend together?

I stood in the doorway for a moment after Bailey left, trying to think of something to say. Usually, I was dying to leave after my shift, but something was holding me back. It felt like I wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. So, I offered to help him get back in bed, if only to buy a few more minutes with him. He seemed a bit unsteady when he stood up. I wondered what he was thinking, if he knew that this was probably the end of our short and strange time together.

Thankfully Jacqueline would be there tonight, so if he wasn't sent to the floor she would make sure he was okay. I told him this, not wanting to settle into an awkward silence as I helped him to bed. Once he was all situated, he looked up and me as if he was trying to solve a puzzle. "What's wrong?" He finally asked.

There was no way I could tell him all the thoughts running through my head at that moment, so I tried to dodge the question. That strategy just ended with me rambling on and sounding ridiculous, so I finally made myself shut up and walked away. It wasn't the way I wanted to leave, but I thought I'd embarrassed myself enough for one night.

Clouds had started rolling in on the heels of the beautiful sunrise. That was a good thing; I always slept best when it was raining. Jackie was awake when I got home, doing some chores around the apartment in that weird time before her first shift of the week. She would often get up early in the morning and clean while I was at work, so she could go back to sleep a while before work. Most of the time our schedules didn't line up, except maybe one night a week, so we didn't get to see each other as much as you would think.

Jacqueline took one look at me as I walked in the door before turning off the vacuum and crossing her arms. "Sit, talk, I'll pour you some scotch." I obliged, kicking off my shoes and flopping onto the couch, hugging a pillow and fighting back a new wave of tears. That was the thing about best friends, they knew exactly what you needed without having to say a word. Jackie understood better than anyone could since we worked on the same unit and dealt with the same bullshit day in and day out. She already had some idea of what was wrong, just from the information she picked up at work.

I gratefully took the glass she handed me, taking a small sip of the smoky drink as she settled into her favorite chair, cradling a mug that I knew was filled with strong, black coffee. "So, the mystery man," she said, not a question but a statement.

"Guy." Saying his name made my eyes sting, though I knew I was being absolutely ridiculous. That knowledge made it worse, somehow. Out of the hundreds of patients I'd taken care of, none of them had this kind of effect on me. Why was this one different?

Leaning back in her chair, Jackie eyed me over the rim of her coffee cup. "Okay, Guy. What's so special about him that makes him worth getting upset over?" She got right to the point, no beating around the bush with Jacqueline. It was the question I had been asking myself for days, the one pushed to the forefront of my mind this morning during the sunrise.

There was no good answer. "He's… handsome?" I tried, though we both knew that wasn't it.

"Yeah, but so is Dr. Williams, and you've been turning him down for years." She had a good point there. Honestly, I didn't even notice that Dr. Williams was attractive anymore since his personality was a huge turnoff for me.

I tried again. "Maybe it's the mystery?"

She considered this for a moment, then shook her head. "That might be part of it, but we've had plenty of mysterious and intriguing cases. No, something is different about this one. Is he nice? Funny?"

I thought back to some of our interactions. Neither of those was words I would use to describe him. "Well, I guess you could say he's funny, but not the way you're thinking. He's just very weird. And he seems… Lost."

"Oh, I get it," she seemed satisfied with herself for having apparently figured it out. "He's broken. You want to fix him."

Her words stung a bit, but I could see the truth in them. I did have a thing for fixing problems. Maybe Guy was just that, a problem that needed a solution. "He definitely needs help, that's for sure. It's like he's from another planet or something."

Jackie grinned at that. "Maybe he is! What if he's an alien sent to earth to masquerade as a human and infiltrate our ranks? And you're his ticket in."

"Alright, I'm too tired for this nonsense," I said, standing up and downing the last of my drink, enjoying the smoky burn as it went down. Jacqueline just smiled and said goodnight.

My body was exhausted, but sleep took its time coming. Every time I closed my eyes, Guy was there. Sometimes Marian was there, too. The two of them together. When I finally did sleep, I had nightmares of a faraway land that I'd never seen before, filled with people I'd never met. Except for Guy and Marian; they filtered in and out of my dream, too. There was another person there, one who seemed almost familiar. A man with a wicked smirk and perceptive eyes, watching me as if he knew my every thought and secret.

 _England, 1193_

The journey from the Holy Land was an arduous one, especially for a group of people who were already worn down by the trials they experienced in the desert. Robin kept them going at a breakneck pace, fueled by his burning desire for revenge. His companions grew more and more concerned as they went along, unable to rest for fear that Robin would pull out of reach. No one was quite sure what his plan was once they reached Nottingham, they just knew it would be disastrous to let him go through with whatever he had in mind.

It was useless, though, like trying to talk down a hurricane. Robin was a force of nature, hellbent on vengeance, and there was no one left to stop him. Once upon a time, when he still had something left to live for, the potential consequences of his actions would be enough to stop him in his tracks. Now, there was nothing left. Nothing mattered except the suffering he intended to bring upon the one person left to blame.

After a fight in the forest, he was finally able to lose Much and the gang. The hurt in his best friend's eyes tried to pierce through the haze that had settled over his mind, but Robin shook off any guilt or regret that struggled to the surface. This was not the time for sentimentality. Much was better off staying away from him at this point; there was no need to drag him down with this sinking ship. As Robin broke through the tree line to see Nottingham rising before him, he looked around to make sure no one had kept after him. He needn't have worried. He was alone.

Robin slowed his pace as he entered the city walls, making his best attempt to appear casual. It wouldn't do to be caught before even coming close to the Sheriff. He wove his way through the narrow streets, eyes down to avoid any familiar faces. Maybe that was why he wasn't able to avoid a collision with the girl who seemed to appear out of nowhere. He thought he had been paying attention, yet the next thing he knew he was knocked to the ground.

Quick on his feet as ever, Robin jumped up to see if the person was a friend or foe. She was slight in frame, her brown hair falling loose around her shoulders. Her clothes were very odd, made of materials he'd never seen before and in shapes that were practically indecent. He took in all this in an instant, only to be transfixed when she looked up at him. The bright brown eyes glared in irritation, lit from a fire inside. Then their expression turned to confusion as if she recognized Robin but couldn't quite place him. Robin himself had a similar feeling. There was something so familiar about the young woman, though he was almost certain he had never seen her before.

Before he had a chance to speak, even to apologize, a cry from the crowd rang out. "Hood!" One of the guards had spotted him. Robin took off running, looking back to see that the bright-eyed lady was safe, but she was nowhere to be found. Vanished, as suddenly as she had appeared.


	11. Chapter 11

Maybe this new warden wasn't as timid and docile as he'd assumed. She certainly had no qualms about ordering him around, getting him out of bed and into the strange chair with wheels, before pushing him down the hallway. They rolled into a room that was entirely too small, that moved in mysterious ways, the doors opening into a completely new hallway. He'd barely had time to contemplate the magic of the moving box when Bailey pushed him through a door and stopped in front of a strange and diabolical looking torture device.

"Alright, we'll just hop up here and the scan will be over in a jiffy," she said, patting the table in front of her. She said it so nonchalantly as if this giant machine wasn't waiting to swallow him whole.

Guy looked at her as if she'd grown a second head, his expression leaving no room for interpretation. "You've taken leave of your sense if you think I'm getting in that thing."

Sighing, Bailey looked up like she was asking God for help before pulling something from her pocket. "Robin said I might need this. I was hoping she was wrong." She was holding a small syringe with clear liquid. "Look. You can either get the CT willingly or we'll make you get it. Either way, we're getting the scan." She paused, waiting to see if his expression changed. "You're really not going to make this easy, are you?" She didn't look in the mood to deal with his shenanigans.

He gritted his teeth, preparing to take whatever voodoo she threw at him. Guy thought he could fight through the elixir she was about to put into his body. "Try me."

A roll of her eyes and a push of her syringe later, Guy felt the room spinning, his arms and legs feeling heavy. "You might feel a little woozy," Bailey said. That was an understatement. He couldn't keep a straight thought in his brain, all the fight drained out of him as she moved him to the torture chamber with help from the assistants that suddenly materialized. Whatever she had done made him so sleepy, he couldn't even work up the energy to protest. She was right, though, it only took a moment. A whir and some beeps over the next few minutes, then the machine was done, and he was back in his wheeled chair, being pushed into the small moving box again.

Finally, Bailey helped him back into his bed. He wanted nothing more than to sleep for the next forever. Whatever she had injected into his body was powerful. He thought he would do anything anyone asked of him. It was a dangerous state to be in, especially for someone like him.

His next moment of clarity came hours later when Bailey and a new stranger came into his room to talk to him. This person introduced herself as the daytime doctor, Dr. Shultz. "So, good news! Your scan looked better than expected. There's an abscess, but IR took a look and says it's not drainable. We're going to switch up your antibiotics a bit, but I think you're more than appropriate for the floor. As soon as a bed opens up we'll get you down there. Do you have any questions?" Guy had many questions, but none that he was comfortable asking or that wouldn't make the doctor suspicious.

Instead, he shrugged. "That sounds like a good thing." He wasn't sure it did, but the doctor seemed pleased about the news.

Dr. Shultz smiled and patted his arm. "You're making great progress towards getting better and getting to go home. I'm sure you're tired of being cooped up in here. Once you get to the floor, you'll have a lot more freedom, too." He was tired of being trapped in this place but also didn't know what awaited him on the outside. Where would he go when they released him? It was a thought he had avoided, hoping he had plenty of time to get it worked out before he had to worry about it. Now it seemed like that time was coming more swiftly.

The doctor left while Bailey stayed behind to check on Guy's machines. "My charge nurse on the floor said they have a few discharges later this afternoon, so hopefully we'll get you down there sometime this evening," she said absently as she put the cuff on his arm and pressed some buttons on the light box above the bed. "They'll bother you a lot less down there, though you may have to share a room."

"Share a room?" Guy's brow furrowed at this. He was accustomed to his privacy, though it was already severely limited in this place. The thought of it being taken away completely was deeply disturbing.

Bailey nodded as she finished up. "Yeah, some of the rooms down there are private, but it just depends on what comes available first. They usually reserve the private ones for celebrities and patients who aren't suited for a roommate." He wondered what that meant, already vowing to find out so he could make himself as unsuitable as possible. Having a roommate would be risky, considering the possibility of what he might say while asleep or under the influence of whatever drugs they gave him.

Finally, he was alone again, his mind mostly cleared after sleeping off the elixir from earlier. If he got sent to "the floor" today, did that mean he wouldn't see Robin again? It was one of many distressing thoughts, such as what he would do whenever he was set free from this place, where he would go. If Marian was alright. Where Hood was, whether in this world or the real one. How any of them could get back to the place from which they came. What Robin was doing right now, if she was thinking about him.

That last ridiculous thought came up unbidden, making him shake his head ruefully. Now was not the time to be daydreaming about a girl, no matter how confident and capable she was. Those were the qualities he liked in a woman; he was never one to chase after the damsel in distress. Marian was the same, a woman who knew what she wanted and wouldn't stop until she accomplished her goals. It was just too bad that what she wanted hadn't been him.

The comparison between Robin and Marian made him uncomfortable. They weren't really similar, beyond their strength and courage. Robin was much daintier, for one. Far more petite and delicate on the surface. Marian always seemed sturdy and powerful, like she could take on anything. He thought back to the weight of Robin on top of him, how easily he tossed her to the ground. Yet she was skilled enough to keep him alive against all odds, was able to help him off the floor, to walk around without faltering. She had a different kind of power, one that came from training and practice.

Again, Guy was struck with the thought that he might not see her again. It was a terrible thought. Robin had been with him from his first moment in this strange world. It felt unfair for their time together to be over, just like that. She was the one constant that he could count on in this sea of confusion. His chest ached when he considered that he was about to be alone, torn from the single person who seemed to show any sort of kind feelings towards him.

It was easy for Guy to slip into a cycle of self-pity. His life had never been easy, even from childhood. He thought himself a product of his lot in life, that he had no choice but to become the man he was today, sent down his dark path by the actions of others. Few had the courage to challenge that notion and those that tried never succeeded. He'd considered Marian as one of the people who wanted to see the good in him, for a time, but even that was all a ruse to help Hood.

Left to his brooding for much of the day, Guy had no appetite for the food that was offered. The sight of the strange meal in front of him turned his stomach, though he hadn't vomited in years. It's important to have a sturdy constitution when you deal with such atrocities as Guy was used to committing. He did manage to drink some juice and keep it down, but that in itself was something of an accomplishment. Bailey seemed disappointed in his lack of appetite, though she didn't say anything outright, just shook her head a little as she carried the meal away, untouched.

The day faded into evening without further word of the impending transfer. Soon, the nighttime warden appeared. Jacqueline, as promised. Guy wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the dark-skinned Amazonian before him caught him by surprise. She was taller than most men and seemed like she could handle her own in a fight. He found her strangely attractive, though he'd never seen a woman quite like her before. She was certainly nothing like Robin or Marian.

"Well, it sure is nice to meet you," she said with a wide smile on her face. Guy knew that Robin must have told her something about him from the way she was looking at him. He hoped they were good things. Jacqueline had a sly look about her as if she knew something that he didn't. "Unfortunately, our time together will be short. A bed is about to open up on the floor, so as soon as the room gets cleaned we'll be shipping you down there." She seemed oddly disappointed by this.

He didn't know what to say to that. The threat of "the floor" had been hanging over his head for days now; he'd almost thought it would never actually happen. At least this new nurse seemed nice enough, maybe she would help make it an easier transition.

Jacqueline suddenly clapped her hands together. "Shoot!" Guy raised his eyebrows at her strange exclamation, unsure if she were speaking to him or herself. "I left my lunch at home. Darn. I'm going to have to see if Robin would be willing to bring it by for me later." With that,s she winked at him and left the room. Their whole interaction was very confusing. What had she meant by telling him that? Was she letting him know that Robin would be around soon? His heart warmed a bit with the thought that he might see her, though he had no reason to believe that she would stop in to visit with him.

Regardless, that idea kept him content for a while, until Jacqueline reappeared. "Alright, it's time to roll out!" She helped Guy into the chair with wheels and pushed him into the hall. A short trip later and they were in a new room, a bit bigger with two beds inside. "Lucky you, they discharged both patients out of here today, so maybe you'll be alone for a while. Though the ER is looking pretty busy," Jacqueline said. He wasn't sure what most of that meant; all that mattered was both beds were empty, so he didn't have to worry about sharing his room just yet.

The new nurse that would be taking over for Jacqueline came into the room and introduced herself. Her name was Bridget; she seemed friendly enough. Not bubbly and peppy but also not surly. She was obviously not super excited about getting a new patient. Her attitude changed a bit once she saw Guy and gave him an appreciative glance. It made him strangely uncomfortable to be looked at like he was a product on display or a piece of meat about to be devoured.

After Jacqueline and Bridget got him all set up in his new abode, Jacqueline said goodbye and headed off back to the floor she came from. Before leaving, she smiled back at Guy. "It was nice meeting you. I have a feeling we may be seeing more of each other in the future. Feel better soon!" Then she was gone, giving Guy no chance to ask what she meant by that.

He supposed this new place wasn't so bad so far. The room was much the same, though a bit quieter than his previous one. That wouldn't last, though, if that other bed were to become occupied. But for now, it was peaceful, nice to be alone. He must have dozed off for a moment, for the next thing he knew there was a knock on the door. "Yes?" He called out hesitatingly, wondering who would be knocking. He knew most of the nurses so far didn't bother with such a formality.

It was Robin who opened the door, catching him by surprise. "Hey," she said, standing awkwardly in the doorway.

"Oh, it's you." Guy wasn't sure what to say. "Um. Come in." He made a small gesture towards a chair in the corner, which she sat down in, smiling gratefully. She was dressed differently than he was used to. Her breeches were tighter, fitted against her legs and dyed a pale blue. Her tunic was not as form fitting but fell in such a way that he could envision every curve of her compact body, especially as he remembered what that body felt like pressed against his. Guy could feel his heart beginning to race at the thought, only to hear one of the machines he was connected to make a small alarming sound.

Her hair was loose and flowing around her shoulders, framing her face in an almost angelic way, swaying as she shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I know you weren't expecting me to come by." That was an enormous understatement. "But Jacqueline asked me to bring her lunch, so I thought I'd stop in to see how you were settling into your new digs. I hope that's okay." She seemed very unsure of herself, which was unlike the Robin he'd come to know so far.

Guy smiled a bit to reassure her. "I'm grateful, truly." She smiled back, relieved.

"You already look like you're feeling better," she said, looking him over quickly.

It probably wasn't true, but Guy was glad she thought so. "I suppose, well enough to be sent here, anyway." He shrugged, unsure what to say. "Did you get some rest?" He'd gathered so far that the nightshift staff slept during the day.

Robin shrugged back. "Yeah, some. Had the weirdest dreams, though…" she trailed off, apparently aware that dreams might not be an entirely appropriate conversation topic.

The topic intrigued Guy, though, so he wanted to explore it further. "What did you dream about?" He asked, unsure if she would answer.

The question made her blush, but she powered ahead. "Well, you were there. And… Marian. And a lot of other people, people I didn't know. I guess it was less of a dream and more of a nightmare." She stopped, seeming to realize that saying he was in her nightmares wasn't the nicest thing you could say to someone. Guy stayed quiet, waiting to see if she would continue. "I felt… Trapped. Like I was trying to get home, get back here, but couldn't find a way."

"I know how that feels," Guy said softly, not quite realizing he'd said it out loud. He was startled when she suddenly looked at him, sadness written on her face. It was as if she instantly knew everything, all the secrets he'd been keeping since arriving in this land.

That feeling thankfully passed and she looked very contrite. "I'm sorry, I never even considered how you must feel, being stuck here with a bunch of strangers. Maybe my dream was my subconscious telling me how inconsiderate I've been. I don't think I've ever asked where you're from. Obviously not from around here."

He thought for a moment. What harm could it do to tell her that much? "No, not from around here indeed," He agreed. "I'm from England."

 _England, 1193_

The strange encounter threw him off his original plan. The guards were closing in, so he had to think fast or else he'd never be able to accomplish his goal of exacting revenge on the sheriff. Darting down a small alley, Robin cursed to himself. Who was that woman? She had seemed tiny but fierce, so familiar but impossible to place. He felt like something was just out of reach in the dark corners of his memory, impossible to bring forward into the light.

He paused for a moment to catch his breath, waiting until the guards thundered past around the corner before moving again. He needed to regroup and come up with a better plan to get at the sheriff. Of course, there were guards everywhere. The sheriff must have known Robin would come after him. He just hoped the wicked man was more vulnerable now, without his enforcer at his side. Maybe Gisborne's death would have some negative effect on the sheriff. They'd been together for many years, it would make sense for there to be some attachment between them. It would serve him right, though Robin doubted the sheriff had that much humanity within him to even care that Gisborne was gone.

As he made his way back into the forest to collect his thoughts and come up with a real plan, he did his best to avoid the rest of the group. Robin thought they would probably head to the city to search for him, but odds were that they'd leave someone behind in the forest to keep an eye out. Luckily, Robin was sneakier than the others in the gang and knew all the hiding places and potential ambush locations. He was able to set up in a tree deep in the woods, confident that no one would find him.

The breakneck speed of travel had caught up with him, now that he was back in familiar soundings. He hadn't realized how tired he was until he found himself dozing off in the comfort of the canopy. The next thing he knew, he was startled awake by someone calling his name down below. Of course, it was Much. The man's loyalty was commendable and appreciated during their time together in the holy land, but now it was an incredible annoyance when all Robin wanted was to be alone.

"I can see you, you know. You're not invisible." Much was standing underneath the tree, arms folded like a mother scolding her child.

Robin tossed a nut from the tree at his friend's head. "Go away, Much. Haven't I made it clear that I don't need you anymore?" It was a harsh thing to say, but politely asking obviously wasn't going to work.

He could hear Much's sigh of irritation filter all the way up through the leaves. "Why do you have to say such things, Robin? We only want to help you because we care about you." Robin felt a stab of guilt at his behavior of late, knowing his friend's words rang true. "Just come down, we can work this out together, Robin."

The memory of Marian's pained face flashed into his mind. "No. Robinhood is dead."


	12. Chapter 12

It seemed like I slept for years, one of those periods of sleep where you think you've lived a thousand lives in your dreams. When I woke up, I realized it had only been about 7 hours. Still, that was longer than I often slept, and I felt somewhat refreshed. Jacqueline was getting ready for work when I stumbled out of my cave like a bear coming out of hibernation.

"Good morning, sunshine," she said brightly, pouring coffee into a thermos to take with her to work.

I wasn't feeling particularly sunny and told her that in a very un-ladylike manner. She just laughed and went about her business, a mischievous sparkle in her eye that I didn't feel like interpreting. A glass of wine and some leftover pizza was calling my name. It would pair perfectly with a movie I'd watched at least 25 times already. The perfect combo to zone out and relax.

Jackie hadn't been gone long when she texted me, "Left my lunch behind, could you drop it by?" That was unusual; normally, I was the one who forgot something. Or, if Jacqueline did forget here lunch, she would normally just drop by the cafeteria and pick something up there. Either way, I was suspicious, but I agreed to swing by in a little bit. Luckily, I hadn't started on my wine.

The desire to see Guy popped up suddenly, probably from the thought that I was going to be at the hospital soon. It wouldn't be that weird to drop by and check on him, would it? I wanted to find a way to justify it to myself and any coworkers that might see me. I threw on some clothes to try and look casual, then headed out the door.

My heart dropped a bit when I saw that Guy wasn't in his room anymore. Jackie told me that she'd sent him to the floor, finally.

"He seemed lonely down there," Jackie said while she put her lunch box away in the breakroom. "I wish I had time to go down there and check on him, but I'm slammed."

There it was, my excuse. I knew Jackie had provided it on purpose. Though she was busy. I'd seen on the assignment that she also was taking care of Marian, who had come from surgery at some point during the day. I wondered how she was doing but was afraid to even ask. "Maybe I could go down there and see how he's settling in?" I said, giving her the side eye to try and figure out what she was up to.

Jacqueline grinned. "Would you? That would make me feel a lot better."

It was all part of her master plan, I was sure. She was always a matchmaker, regardless of how inappropriate a relationship between a staff member and a patient would be. Jackie darted off with a quick goodbye while I took a moment to think about what I'd agreed to.

On one hand, I was dying to see Guy. I'd gotten used to having him around, seeing him almost every day. But on the other hand, it was probably best to limit our interactions with each other. Every time I saw him my heart beat faster and it was harder to breathe. Getting attached to patients is something every nurse has dealt with, but this was different. It felt different. I knew that it wasn't quite right, not completely ethical, yet I couldn't stop myself from going to the floor to see him.

It was obvious that he was surprised to see me, but also happy. He invited me to take a seat; as I did, his monitor alarmed briefly. Slightly elevated heart rate. I hoped he wasn't working on another fever. He looked better overall, though, which I told him after explaining why I was there. His small smile in response warmed my heart.

"Did you get some rest?" It was a very thoughtful question. Most patients don't consider that when we work all night we also need to sleep all day. They have no idea what kind of toll that takes on a person's mind and body. It was touching that Guy cared at all.

Flashes of my dreams floated through my mind. My mouth was working faster than my brain; before I knew what was happening, I blurted out information about the nightmares. Guy seemed very interested in them, and thankfully not offended when I said I dreamt about him. It was surprising. I wasn't used to random people caring so much about my thoughts and life. Most people are selfish creatures, something I realized after years of nursing.

"I felt… Trapped. Like I was trying to get home, get back here, but couldn't find a way." It was hard to describe the feeling, but it was terrible. A small shiver ran up my spine as the emotions from the dream resurfaced.

Guy's sad voice pulled me from my thoughts. "I know how that feels." He spoke softly, almost as if he didn't mean to speak at all. The words were full of emotion, tugging at my heart in a way that I didn't quite understand. Did he mean here, in the hospital, or something else? My own nightmares seemed insignificant when it appeared he was living in his. Our eyes met for a moment, speaking without words in a foreign tongue that I couldn't understand.

It was suddenly very important that I learn more about this man. Who knew how long he would be hospitalized? Whenever he was discharged, we would go our separate ways. Who was he, really? Where was he from? What really happened to him? The questions that had been gnawing at me for days bubbled up to the surface. I decided to start with a simple one. There should be no problem with finding out where he was from.

"I'm from England." His straightforward answer surprised me a bit. I had expected more push back, but he seemed like he wanted to talk to someone. Of course, I'd already gathered that somewhat based on his accent, but it was a start.

Time to dig a little deeper. "What made you come to America?" His eyebrows furrowed like he didn't understand the question. I thought it was fairly straightforward, mentally adding this to the list of things that confused him.

He finally spoke after a long pause. "A terrible mistake." I guess we were back to being cryptic. Our newfound openness lasted all of 30 seconds. I was stumped, trying to think of a way to continue the conversation when he surprised me by speaking again. "I'm not the best with maps. Whereabout is America located?"

The slightest wind could have knocked me over. Was he being serious, or was this some strange joke? Guy didn't seem like the joking kind of man. The look I gave him must have told him exactly what I was thinking since he blushed a bit and looked away. I immediately felt bad. He was perfectly serious. That was even more perplexing; how do you get through life without knowing where America is? This was by far the strangest and most significant gap in his knowledge so far.

"It's across the Atlantic from England," I said, trying not to sound like I thought he was a crazy person, though that was incredibly hard. He nodded even though the expression on his face told me that he still didn't quite understand.

We sat in awkward silence for a moment. I was thinking of ways to leave without seeming mean when he spoke again. "How long do you think it takes to travel from here to England?"

I'd never been to England but had always dreamt of going there, so I knew the flight times. "It's around 9 hours, I think. Depends on if you have a layover or not, too. Not the worst trip ever."

He brightened a bit at this, looking suddenly optimistic. "That's not too bad. By foot or by horse?"

Again, my expression must have given away my thoughts, because his face fell again before I could even answer. "By plane," I said, almost certain that he wouldn't know what that meant either. His face was carefully closed off again, making it clear that our strangely candid conversation was over. I mentally kicked myself for ruining my first real chance at getting some answers about this strange man.

The sheer awkward tension in the room made want to escape, but I was also aware that this could be the last time we saw each other. The desire to run was so strong, at war with my desire to stay as long as I could with him. Now he wouldn't look at me, staring at the wall with his jaw set tightly, face a blank slate. "Guy…" I said, trying one more time to salvage this conversation.

He finally met my eyes, expressionless except for the hint of sadness that shone through. "Where are you going to go when you get discharged from here?" I don't know what made me ask that particular question, especially when I thought I knew the answer. There was something wrong with him, some otherness that I couldn't put my finger on. I couldn't imagine where someone like him would live, what he would do on a daily basis, what kind of job he would have. Everything about him was just not quite right.

I was beginning to think he was just going to ignore my question altogether when he finally spoke. "I don't know," he said, the sadness evident in his voice. I wanted to gather him up in my arms and comfort him like a child. Instead, I scooched my chair a bit closer to the bed and placed my hand over his.

"You can't go back where you came from?"

He was staring at our hands as if they were alien appendages that had sprouted out of thin air. His fist was clenched beneath my palm, tense and resistant. "No." I wasn't sure if he was answering my question or if the word had greater meaning. Either way, I went to move my hand, since I got the feeling he wasn't a fan of the sudden contact.

Before I could pull my hand away he reached out and grabbed it, clinging like a drowning man to a lifesaver. "Don't go." There was a touch of desperation in his voice as he held my hand in both of his, warm palms together as if in prayer.

We couldn't stay like that, though. If someone were to come in, it would obviously look very bad. I gave his hands a squeeze before pulling away, though I stayed sitting. "Is your family from England as well?" I thought maybe that's why they weren't here with him.

"My mother was French." _Was_. Past tense. I wanted to ask but didn't want to push the subject. "Both my parents died in a fire when I was young."

That was the most information I had ever gotten out of him, and I didn't know what to do with it. "I'm sorry, that must have been very hard on you."

He just shrugged. "I survived."

"There's more to life than just surviving," I said without thinking.

The intensity of his gaze burned. "You're right. But there is no life at all without survival." It seemed like he wanted to say something else before deciding to stay silent again.

It was getting late, according to the clock on the wall. I had stayed much longer than I'd anticipated. The last thing we needed was for someone on the floor to start asking questions or getting suspicious. This strange relationship we had going on was dangerous and entirely inappropriate. "I should go, I'm afraid I've overstayed my welcome," I said with regret, standing up slowly. Guy just nodded and closed his eyes.

He looked so peaceful, with his head tilted back and brow unfurled for once. I gave in to the urge to reach out and cup his cheek. Rough beard scraped my palm as he turned into my touch, eyes still closed but with his brow knit as if in pain. I would have given anything to know what he was thinking at that moment. He was a pure mystery; a puzzle I wasn't sure I could solve.

His mouth was pressed into a tight line, the tension evident in every part of his expression. I wanted to smooth that tension away, to help ease the pain that I saw in him. As I absentmindedly traced my thumb over his lips his eyes flew open, burning with a different flame. It was dark and dangerous, hinting at the things he was capable of. This was no saint in front of me, that much was obvious. I had no doubt that he was a man used to taking what he wanted.

That reckless feeling tugged at my heart, telling me to make mistakes, that it would be worth it. We both leaned forward a little, closing the gap between us like we were pulled by magnets. He stopped short, eyes searching mine for some sort of answer I didn't have.

"No," he said softly, leaning back. "I'm sorry." I didn't know what he was sorry for, what had made him stop.

Tears pricked my eyes, making me feel even more ridiculous. "No, no. I'm sorry." I tried to keep my voice from shaking. "I shouldn't have done that. I need to go." I stood up to quickly and banged my knee on the bed rail. Wincing in pain, I moved away as fast as I could, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

"Robin, wait," he called out weakly, but I didn't listen. I needed to get out of there while I still had some dignity intact.

It was difficult maneuvering the halls while also trying to avoid my coworkers. I made my way to the staff bathroom in one of the back hallways. The dam burst as soon as the lock clicked shut behind me. Why was I so stupid? It made me nauseous to think that I had entertained the notion that he had any sort of feelings for me. That I had let myself get attached as if there was a chance that we could ever have something together. I felt like an utter fool.

After the tears stopped, I stayed in the bathroom for a while. It was rarely used, tucked into the deep dark depths of the hospital. The perfect place for a good cry when things got to be too much at work. I was attempting to make myself presentable again when there was a knock on the door.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Of course, it was Jackie. Her spidey senses must have been tingling.

I took a shuddering breath and shook my head. "I'll tell you later. How did you know I was in here?"

Her small smile told me she was glad I was duly impressed with her best friend skills. "I wish I could take credit, but you can blame your mystery man. I went to check on you since you never came back upstairs to say by. He told me you had left in a huff and that you seemed upset. Of course, he didn't tell me why. A man of few words, that one. But he was obviously concerned about you." I could tell she was super curious about what had happened between us, though she wouldn't push the subject right now.

"I kind of doubt he was that worried," I said dismissively before changing the subject. "How're your patients tonight?

Jacqueline knew she would be able to squirrel the details out of me later, so she accepted this new conversation without hesitation. "Oh, not too bad. One of them came from OR just before shift change. Everything seemed to go well, so far. They think they were able to stop any internal bleeding and stitch everything up as well as they could hope." It was obvious that she was talking about Marian. I was glad for the good news; who knew what Guy would do if she hadn't pulled through. He was entirely too unstable and unpredictable to deal with something like that.

Exhaustion hit me out of nowhere, though I had slept so long that day. Maybe it was the stress or just the poor quality of sleep I had gotten. Either way, I told Jackie goodnight and made my way home after promising to tell her everything when she got off work. I didn't even make it to my bed. Instead, I fell asleep on the couch with Seinfeld reruns playing on the T.V.

 _England, 1193_

Much just wouldn't leave him be. No matter what terrible things Robin said, no matter how cruel he was, his friend was by his side like a stray dog. Robin finally resigned himself to the company, knowing in his heart that Much couldn't stop his plans. Much realized the same thing and promised to himself to help Robin no matter what the outcome might be.

It was decided that Robin would confront the sheriff in broad daylight. He knew he had the moral high ground; there was no need to sneak around under the cover of darkness. Robin laid his plans for the next time the sheriff conducted business in Nottingham square. It wasn't long before Vaisey decided it was time for some poor fellow's public execution. That's when Robin decided to enact his plot.

The square was crowded, everyone gathering to see who was going to be executed this time. It was a petty thief, one who was just unlucky enough to be chosen by the sheriff to be used as an example. But it was perfect for Robin's plan. Vaisey was his main target, but if he could save the poor thief's soul in the process, all the better.

As the sheriff made one his usual pre-execution speeches, Robin took the opportunity to scope the crowd and make note of the guards and their positions. As he looked around the courtyard, he caught sight of a familiar flash of soft brown hair and blazing brown eyes. It was the girl from before, the one that left the nagging feeling behind that he should know who she is. She noticed him too, her confused expression telling him that he wasn't alone in his feelings.

There wasn't any more time to think about the girl, however. The sheriff was finally done speaking, and Robin needed to act quick before the thief was killed and the crowd dispersed. As the rope was placed around his neck, Robin readied his bow and arrows. One for the rope, one for Vaisey. He hoped to pin the odious man to the wall so he could have the pleasure of killing him with his own hands.

Before he loosed his first arrow, the sheriff somehow managed to spot him. "Guards!" He called as the gallows dropped from below the thief. Robin had to make a split-second decision; there wasn't time for two arrows. He had to make this one count. Would he save the thief and risk letting the sheriff escape? Or would he let the thief die and exact his revenge?

It was an easy choice for Robin. He let his arrow fly, noting with satisfaction the "thunk" of the hooded man falling to the platform once the rope was severed. The sheriff ducked, darting towards safety while screaming, "Hood! It's Robin Hood! Get him!" He had almost made it to the castle walls when a small figure froze directly in his path. Robin watched in horror as Vaisey grabbed the girl and used her as a human shield.


	13. Chapter 13

He regretted answering her question, opening the way for more inquiry. He was growing increasingly embarrassed by his lack of answers, not understanding what she said. Her words were foreign and confusing, her explanations not very helpful in telling him where on earth he was. It was a question that had been bothering him lately. Where was this strange land? Though he knew what year it was (even if he didn't fully believe it) he got the distinct feeling that he wasn't in England.

"It's across the Atlantic from England," Robin said, eyeing him like he might take leave of his senses at any moment. He'd revealed another gap in his knowledge, potentially the most glaring one so far. Yet he needed to know how far he was from home, how difficult the journey would be if he ever escaped this prison.

Her answer was surprising, for he had been thinking it would be a much longer journey. Guy wracked his brain, trying to think of any place within a day's journey that might have changed names over the years. None of them were remotely similar to "America," and he couldn't think of a place with a landscape similar to where he was, judging by the views from his room. Still, he was optimistic, trying to get a better idea of distance with his next question. "By foot or by horse?"

Robin looked at him like he was a sideshow performer in a carnival, with equal parts interest and confusion. He got the distinct feeling that he revealed too much, and decided to work on rebuilding the walls he had mistakenly let down in her presence. He had no idea what a "plane" was, or how fast it traveled, but he definitely wasn't going to ask her about that one. She had enough ammunition against him already.

Maybe if he didn't look at her again, she would leave. He tried to make it as obvious as possible that he didn't want to talk anymore, though he was afraid to speak for fear he would say something else he would later regret. It seemed anytime he talked to Robin he ended up kicking himself later. So instead, he stared blankly at the wall, making a concentrated effort to be emotionless so as not to betray anything he was feeling. The thought of her leaving on such a note brought up an ache in his chest, but he knew it was necessary. Even if this was the last he saw of her, it was for the best.

Yet she didn't leave. "Guy…" her soft voice forced his attention, filled with emotions that mirrored his own. He couldn't ignore her, wasn't strong enough for that. When he met her eyes it was almost too much; he struggled valiantly to keep his emotions in check, in the face of her open concern.

He didn't know what he'd expected her to say, but he wasn't prepared for the question. Where would he go? It was so closely related to his own train of thought that he wondered if she'd somehow read his mind. Maybe she was a psychic. But if that were the case, she wouldn't need to ask so many questions. And if there was one thing Robin did, it was ask a lot of questions.

As he struggled to come up with an answer, he could feel her watching him, waiting. "I don't know," is all he could think to say. It was the truth, possibly the most honest and bare truth he'd spoken thus far. The weight of the words pressed down on him, their reality closing in on him from all sides. There was nowhere for him to go; even if he made it back to England, surely his previous home was gone. His land was doubtlessly occupied by some new family long ago. He was truly homeless, with nowhere to run.

Robin's next question again struck at the core of his thoughts. "You can't go back where you came from?" She asked, moving closer and placing her hand gently over his.

It was like being struck by lightning, the softness of her palm against his clenched fist. He could barely choke out his answer. "No." There were no other words he could think to say, no explanation that would make sense. Guy stared at their hands, trying to etch the moment into his memory. When Robin went to pull away, he panicked, grasping at her and latching on with both hands. "Don't go." He hates the way his voice sounded, brought so low to practically beg her to stay. There was a time in the not so distant past when he wouldn't ask for anything. Guy of Gisborne was more likely to demand what he wanted, no one daring to deny him.

Maybe that was a long time ago; in reality, depending on who you asked, it was a very long time ago. Robin squeezed his hand briefly before pulling away again. He couldn't command her to stay even if he wanted to. Thankfully she didn't move to leave but stayed sitting next to his bed.

"Is your family from England as well?" She started back up with the questions. Maybe he should have let her leave when she seemed eager to go.

He thought his answers to be a requirement of her continued presence, so he tried to think of a way to answer without giving too much away. "My mother was French." That didn't seem like dangerous information, and it was the truth. He could see her expression change at the phrasing. Suddenly he wanted to talk about it. He never talked about his parents with anyone; the only person that really knew what happened was Hood, and he certainly wasn't someone Guy could open up with. "Both my parents died in a fire when I was young." Spoken so plainly, it sounded dramatic and sad.

The look on Robin's face made him regret his decision to tell her anything. He didn't want the pity he saw written there, didn't want the words of comfort she offered. He tried to shrug off her concern with feigned nonchalance, saying "I survived," as if he hadn't struggled every moment since his parent's death.

"There's more to life than just surviving." What she said was true, of course, though he wondered what she meant by the words. He looked at her for a long moment, trying to read her expression. She met his gaze guardedly like she was trying to figure him out as well.

He wanted to say something beyond the cryptic response he gave, to tell her that he had nothing left to live for. That he wished he had died in the holy land instead of living just to be tortured here, haunted by his own mistakes. That she was the only bright spot in his life right now, and she remained just out of reach. But he managed to restrain himself, to bottle up those feelings deep inside.

Then she was leaving, for real this time. He couldn't watch her leave again, closing his eyes against the sight. At least they were parting on better terms this time. He waited to hear her footsteps leave the room, but the sound didn't come. Instead, her soft hand cupped his face gently. He couldn't resist nuzzling into her touch, which was warm and loving. He still wasn't used to such kindness, unsure if he even deserved it. But she was her here, all warmth and softness and purity. Guy wanted to soak in the feeling, to tuck it away for the dark days he knew lay ahead.

When Robin's thumb brushed gently over his lips, an entirely different feeling blossomed. Desire smoldered in his heart, forcing his eyes open. She met his gaze boldly. There was no hint of the fear he often saw in women's eyes, only a wicked gleam of mischief. Robin knew what she was doing, though she had no idea how dangerous he could be. They were closer than they'd been before; in the next moment their lips would touch and there would be no coming back from that.

It wasn't fair. She didn't know what she was getting herself into. She deserved better. These thoughts cut through the fog in his brain, forcing clarity to prevail. This was wrong, so very wrong. Guy felt guilty for even entertaining the idea, pulling back before she could make what would possibly be the biggest mistake of her life.

"I'm sorry." He'd never meant the words more than at that moment. Sorry he'd let it get this far, sorry he wasn't a better man.

Now there were tears building in her eyes and it was all his fault. He wanted to wipe them away, pull her close and bring her comfort as she'd done for him. But she didn't stop when he called after her; in the next instant, she was out the door.

Once the trembling started he struggled to make it stop. His entire body shook like he was chilled to the bone, though he actually felt hot, so hot he threw the blankets off. It didn't help. The box above his bed alarmed, beckoning Bridget, his nurse, to come to check on him. She felt his forehead and frowned. "You don't feel warm. Are you hurting?"

Was he hurting? Yes, but not in the way she meant. Plus, he didn't want the solutions he knew the nurse would offer. So, he shook his head with his jaw clenched tightly, trying to will the trembling to stop. She looked doubtful and concerned, noting the tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. "Are you sure? Or maybe you're hungry? Thirsty? Need to pee?" Again, he shook his head firmly, just wanting to be left alone. She seemed to understand this, and with a shrug, she walked over to the box and pressed a button. It went dark and finally stopped beeping. "I'll check on you in a bit. Call me if you change your mind and need something, okay?" She gave him a kind smile and left the room.

A few minutes of quiet sobbing and some shuddering breaths later, he felt slightly better. There weren't many times in his life that he let himself be overcome in such a way, but when he did he always felt refreshed afterward. Weak and drained, but calm. He hated showing such profound weakness, grateful that only the girl Bridget had witnessed it. She seemed kind enough; he thought she understood his emotional state and wouldn't judge him for it.

She was suddenly there as if he'd summoned her with his thoughts. "You're still awake?" She asked, surprised. "Have you just been sitting here in the dark this whole time?" He nodded. The wardens seemed to bother him much less here in this new place; he admitted it was far lonelier. Quieter, darker. He missed the constant sounds and almost hourly visits from the wardens in his old room.

"Do you want me to at least turn on the TV for you?" Bridget gestured towards the magic portal rectangle on the wall, similar to the one he'd been wary of early on in his stay here. It was less frightening after all this time and all the other things he'd learned since he'd been in this land. So, Guy shrugged, and she pressed a button on the 'TV' causing it to spring to life. After pressing a few more buttons which made the picture change quickly, she settled on a painting that she thought would suffice. "Hope you like Seinfeld," she said ruefully. "There's not much on this late at night."

With a small smile, she slipped out the door, and he was alone again. Guy turned his attention to moving picture on the wall, fascinated now that he no longer feared it. The people he saw spoke too fast and in strange tones. They spoke English, but it was almost unintelligible. It was different than the way the people here spoke, which, while strange, was easy for him to understand.

There was also odd laughter that seemed to come from nowhere. He supposed this ghost laughter was coordinated with jokes that the people spoke, but from what he could understand, he didn't find them amusing. Maybe the laughter was from the ghosts of those who'd been bored to death by these strangers. He smiled to himself at the thought, almost wishing he had his own band of merry spirits to laugh at his wit.

Eventually, Guy fell asleep, the TV still on in the background providing a soothing sound. He barely woke when Bridget came back in the room to check on him and mess with his machines. She smiled down at his sleeping form, glad that he was able to finally get some rest. She'd been worried about him and had called Jacqueline to ask if she knew anything about why he'd been so upset. Jackie hadn't been much help but had seemed very interested in this information. So, Bridget let him sleep; he looked so peaceful, so different from the gruff man he was while awake.

Then it was daytime, and thankfully Bailey was back again. She'd taken care of him when she floated to the ICU. It was always good when they could provide the patients with some consistency. Guy was half awake when they came in for shift change, eyes opening fully when they entered the room. "Good morning, sunshine!" Bailey was always so peppy in the mornings. "Is there anything I can bring for you when I come back in?"

Guy scratched at his beard, realizing for the first time just how out of control it had gotten. He hadn't looked in a mirror in days, so he could only imagine how wild he looked. "A shave would be nice," he said, wondering if that were a possibility while imprisoned.

Bailey and Bridget laughed a bit at this. "Of course, I'll track you down a razor and some shaving cream. I bet we could even arrange a haircut if you wanted. Sometimes it makes people feel more human," Bailey said, noting his tangled curls.

Reaching up to run a hand through his hair, Guy winced as his fingers caught in the tangles. "That might be a good idea," he said ruefully. He felt refreshed from his sleep, more alive than he'd felt in weeks. There were a lot of plans to be made, might as well start off with making himself look less beastly. The morning held promise, a hint at better things to come. Guy felt uncharacteristically optimistic, ready to face this new day.

England, 1193

Terror shone in the strange girl's eyes while the sheriff cut off her scream with a quick hand placed over her mouth. There was no way for Robin to hit the sheriff without hurting the girl. Robin's friends had scattered into the crowd, equally as helpless. "Turn yourself in without a fight, Hood, and the girl will remain unharmed," the sheriff sneered. His human shield struggled a bit, stopping only after Vaisey dug his fingers into her arm hard enough to draw blood. "Vile rat," he said, shaking her.

Robin was running out of options, unsure of what to do. He couldn't let the sheriff hurt this girl but turning himself in meant certain death. As he thought over the situation, Vaisey was inching back towards the cast doors. Before Robin could stop him, he darted through them, dragging the struggling girl with him. Robin followed, battling through the guards with his friends at his side once again.

They fought their way into the castle, chasing the sheriff up the stairs and onto the roof. There they faced off again, Vaisey holding the girl near the edge, threatening to throw her off. "You know what to do to save her, Hood. Hand yourself over and I'll let her go." He snickered at those last words, implying that he would let her go in one way or another regardless of what Robin did.

"Robin, don't do it," Much panted beside him, seeing that his friend was considering meeting the sheriff's demands.

"Don't do it, Robin," Vaisey mocked him, pushing his hostage closer to the edge. She'd gone strangely still during this conversation but resumed her struggle as soon as she peered over the edge of the castle wall. It was a long drop to the ground. "I'd stop wriggling so much if I was you, foolish girl. It would be a shame if I lost my grip." She stopped again at those words, eyes pleading with Robin to do something.

Someone had to give in; they couldn't stay here all day. The sheriff was not a patient man, and he was growing tired of these games. "Tsk, tsk. Took too long, my boy." With that, he let go, pushing his hostage towards the ledge.

"No!" Robin and his friends screamed in unison, rushing forward to grab at her. Robin caught her hand, small and delicate, trembling in his. Now they both teetered on the edge of the roof. The sheriff grinned, giving Robin a good swift shove to finish the job. Robin lost his footing and started to fall, letting go of the girl in order to not pull her down with him. Little John latched onto the girl while Much reached out for Robin. Much wasn't fast enough; he watched in dismay as Robin tumbled down, landing motionless in a cloud of dust on the ground.

The sheriff slipped away in the turmoil while everyone else rushed down the stairs to help Robin, desperately hoping that he had somehow survived the fall. When they reached the ground level, his body was nowhere to be found. No one around had any clue as to where it had gone. Much was frantic, looking for answers, but there were none. He turned around, thinking to ask the strange girl if she had seen anything or knew what happened, but she had also vanished into thin air as if she'd never existed.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

The sensation of falling jolted me awake, the vivid nightmare still fresh as if it were real. My heart was racing; it was a struggle to calm down, remind myself that it was just a dream. I wasn't usually one to relive dreams, but lately, the same people were appearing repeatedly. That man with the shaggy hair and the knowing smirk, him especially. I tried to put it out of my mind, chalking it up to being stressed and tired. The events of the night before were still fresh, wounds I wanted to let heal a bit.

The front door burst open, startling me. "Oh, hey. You're awake." Jackie seemed to be in a bad mood.

"Rough night?" I asked, getting up to go pick her lunch box up off the floor where she dropped it.

Jackie flopped on the couch dramatically, kicking off her shoes in the process. "Just ugh. I hate admission right before shift change, especially train wreck ones." I glanced at the clock; it was almost 8:00 am, much later than we usually got home. It must have been a mess.

I made her some tea while we talked. "Well, at least we'll be working together tonight." I'd picked up an overtime shift to save for a trip we were planning soon. That overtime pay was well worth it.

"Yeah, the newbie will probably be yours, too. He was my third. Apparently, no one else could take him." She rolled her eyes, indicating that she thought that was a load of crap. "Enough about my night. What on earth happened with you and the prince of darkness?" She took the teacup from me, eagerly sitting up and giving me her full attention.

I was still reeling from the after effects of my nightmare, but I had promised to tell her everything. "We talked," I said, sitting down on the opposite end of the couch and pulling up my knees. She raised her eyebrows expectantly. "And… things got weird. I don't know what I was thinking. He makes me feel crazy." It was the truth. When I was with him I did things that I would never do otherwise.

"And then?" She wasn't going to let me off the hook so easy.

"And then I tried to kiss him. Or he tried to kiss me. That part's a little fuzzy. But he pulled away before anything happened. I was so embarrassed. What's wrong with me?" I don't know what Jackie was expecting, but it wasn't that. She thought me something of a prude compared to herself, not the type to kiss random men.

Shaking her head in disbelief, she laughed. "I can't imagine what led to that. What did he say?"

"Before or after?" I asked, cheeks still burning at the memory.

"Both, I guess." She looked at me as if she didn't know who I was anymore.

I thought back, trying to trace the moment things went awry. "He told me about his parents, that they were dead. Then I said I needed to go after we held hands for a bit. But as I was about to leave he just looked so… vulnerable. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? When did I become this predator?" The guilt was back full force, making me feel like the worst nurse in the world.

Jackie sat up, suddenly intense. "You're not a predator, you dunce. You like him. When's the last time you've even been interested in someone?" She asked the question as if she didn't know the answer already.

It was Adam. That was the last person I'd been interested in. The love of my life, the reason I worked myself to exhaustion. The one that got away. More like ran away, really. No one else compared to him.

"It's been almost a year, Robin. I'm glad someone else has caught your eye." I wouldn't have made it through the breakup without Jacqueline. She was the best friend a girl could ever ask for.

We sat there for a moment, both lost in our own thoughts. "But, he's a patient," I said, speaking the words that were bothering me the most.

She shook her head firmly. "Not your patient, not anymore at least. And from the sound of it, he won't be a patient too much longer, anyway." She sat quietly again for a few seconds before asking, "What did he say after?"

I didn't want to think about after. I didn't want to think about any of it, really. "He said he was sorry."

"Did he look sorry?" She asked

"I don't know, I didn't really look at him after that." Not that I could have seen him through my tears, anyway.

Rolling her eyes, Jackie stood up. "Well, I'm going to bed. We can continue this conversation at a later time." With that, she sashayed dramatically off to her bedroom. I couldn't help but smile; only a few minutes of chatting and I already felt a little better. She always knew what to say.

The next few hours were spent folding clothes, napping, and making dinner for the two of us. It seemed like the least I could do in repayment for her putting up with my ridiculousness. My nap was thankfully dream-free, so I felt more rested than I did after sleeping all night.

When we walked on the unit, the dayshift charge nurse came over right away. "Molly was supposed to be on the code team tonight, but she called out. Who wants it?" I looked at Jackie, knowing both of us wanted it. Even though she would have her same patients as last night, she'd rather be on the code team any day of the week.

"Flip a coin?" she said, grinning. I lost, which meant getting most of Jackie's assignment from the night before. Luckily, we were covered enough to where I only had to have 2 patients for the moment. Of course, one of them was Marian. The other was the new patient that Jackie admitted earlier that morning.

I told Zach to give me just the updates on Marian since I knew her history. She'd gone to surgery and came back. It went well, they were able to find the nick in her bowel and repair it. Now we were just waiting to see if she would recover. The doctors were throwing every antibiotic they could at her, hoping one would stick and fight the infection she had brewing. Meanwhile, she had been sleeping pretty much since surgery, though occasionally waking up delirious with her fevers, not able to give any helpful information.

The new patient was a complete mystery, as well. He'd been found beneath a tree in the park; the general assumption was that he was climbing the tree and fell. His injuries were consistent with that, but the fall itself was unwitnessed. He had no ID, no one seemed to be looking for him. At least his injuries seemed to be accidental instead of the obvious violent nature of the other two's.

Zach said the police had been up on the unit all day, trying to figure out what tied these three people together. They found nothing and got nowhere. There were no obvious links beside the strangeness surrounding them- aside, of course, the fact that Guy and Marian knew each other. But neither of them was talking. Marian was too out of it to answer questions and trying to get information out of Guy was like trying to get water from a rock.

"The police were a little frustrated when they left," Zach said offhandedly. "They threatened to arrest the first mystery patient if he didn't cooperate with their investigation." That worried me a little; I knew Guy wouldn't help them at all and was well acquainted with how annoying he could be when he shut down. It was one thing to act like that with hospital staff, but he needed to be careful where the police were involved. I was all too familiar with the way the cops in our town worked. Arresting him for obstruction probably wasn't just an idle threat.

"I doubt this new patient will be able to tell us much, either, from the looks of him," Zach continued as we started towards the patient's room for bedside handoff.

As soon as we walked into the room to check out the new patient, I felt like a bomb had went off inside my chest. He was bruised and banged up, the smirk wiped off his face, but there was no mistaking it. It was him, the man from my dreams. I tried to stay calm about it while Zach was in the room, but I was legitimately freaking out. It just wasn't possible; I had never seen this man before outside my dreams. Yet here he was, in the flesh, somehow connected to Guy and Marian.

I needed answers, and I needed them as soon as possible. There had to be an explanation, and if anyone knew what it was, it would be Guy. The first chance I had, I made my way to the floor, intent on getting answers, one way or another.

He was sitting in a chair by the window, staring out at the mountains in the dark distance. For a moment I thought I had the wrong room. He caught me off guard; he'd shaved, and someone had cut his hair. It was still a curly mess, but a lot of the tangled chunks were gone. He must have gotten a loaner pair of sweatpants because that's all he was wearing. Without his beard, I could see the sharp smooth angle of his jawline. He was breathtaking, turning to look at me as I stormed through the door.

"Robin? What's wrong?" He must have noticed my furious expression, his brow creasing with concern.

I was still stunned for a moment but quickly remember why I had come. I closed the door behind me, feeling slightly insane. "Who are you?" I said, keeping my voice low though I felt like screaming.

The look of confusion that crossed Guy's face was completely adorable. "What do you mean?" He said, trying to figure out what was going on.

Stalking over to his chair, I put both hands on the armrests, boxing him in. "I'm tired of these games, Guy. Before it didn't matter, I didn't care if you kept your secrets. But now this involves me."

His eyes narrowed, dropping any hint of innocence. "What's happened?" He asked, voice stone cold.

"No, you don't get to ask questions. I want answers, Guy." I could tell he didn't like this turn of events, being trapped in place and interrogated. We were face to face, practically nose to nose, staring each other down.

I saw the flicker of decision a split second before he made his move but didn't have time to react to prevent it. In one swift move, he grabbed both my wrists, standing up and pulling me against him, his other hand holding a fistful of my hair, locking me in place.

The effort obviously winded him, though he fought through the pain. He was stronger than I'd anticipated. I didn't want to fight too hard for fear of hurting him, either. "I'll scream if you don't let me go," I said, chin lifting defiantly. He was significantly taller than me, so I had to strain to meet his eyes.

"You won't," he shook his head, smirking a bit. "You'll never get the answers you're looking for if you did." He was infuriating, and he was right. Not to mention I could feel the heat of his bare chest pressing up against my hands between us. I couldn't scream, but we also couldn't stay like this. I couldn't think straight.

There was only one thing I could think to do. Well, two things, but one was so ridiculous it wasn't even a real option. So, I did what I could, bringing my knee up swiftly between his legs. He was expecting it and moved to block my attack, but the movement was too much for him. He let go of me, grimacing and gasping before collapsing back into his chair, clutching the wound at his side.

I crouched down beside him, concerned. "Guy? Are you okay?" His breathing was harsh and ragged. He'd transformed from a fierce warrior to a lost and broken soul in an instant. He looked so vulnerable, so scared, I reached up and cupped his cheek. It was smooth and soft, a nice change from the rough beard he had before.

There was shame in his eyes when he looked at me, whether it was from the way he acted or from what he was hiding, I wasn't sure. Now wasn't the time to get wrapped up in all these emotions; I was still reeling from the unexpected patient back on the unit. So, I decided to give it one last try for an answer, to catch Guy when he has his guard down.

I looked deep in his eyes, willing him to open up. "I just have one question." He stared at me, waiting to see what it was. "Who is Robin?"

 _England, 1193_

The mysterious friar watched the scene unfold before him, saw as the two bodies fell into the crowd below, only to vanish into thin air. It was a curious thing, one with no real explanation. Tuck couldn't pinpoint why, but he decided to keep watch over the area for a while, just to put his own mind at ease. So, he set up in a dark corner of the square, no more conspicuous than any other vagrant sleeping out of doors.

He'd only closed his eyes for a moment, just to clear some of the grittiness away. They snapped back to attention at the sound of a soft groan coming from near the castle wall. Tuck was instantly on his feet, rushing to the side of the shadowy figure that most certainly had not been there before. The person was bruised and broken, obviously very near death; there was no way they could have walked to their position in such a state.

Someone else might have been frightened at this new turn of events, but Tuck was stronger than most men. He knew this to be a sign from God, as most unexplained events were. He'd come in search of Robin Hood, and though he had never met the man, Tuck had a good idea that this was indeed the great legend.

Where had he gone when he so strangely disappeared? Why was he now returned? Tuck hoped he would be able to heal the outlaw enough to at least get some answers, though he thought him to be beyond saving. _By God's will, it shall be_ , he thought to himself, stooping to carefully pick up the damaged body. He was light, far too light for his size. Another mystery, but this one worked out in his favor. Tuck hadn't been looking forward to the thought of carrying the injured man back to his hideout. This new development made things substantially easier.

Tuck made his way back to the place he had chosen for his purposes, secreted away from prying eyes, and began the daunting task of nursing the fallen hero back to health.


	15. Chapter 15

The question came out of nowhere. Guy pulled back like her hand had slapped him instead of gently caressed his cheek. "Where is he?" He growled, somehow realizing he must have resurfaced. The time for reckoning had come at last.

"What makes you think he's here?" She asked, stepping back and crossing her arms. He knew Hood was here. He could just feel it.

Robin stood staring at him for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't know why I even bothered. I should have known you'd never tell me anything." She was angry, and maybe a little scared. Something had frightened her; Guy didn't think it was his actions. No, there was something else. She didn't give him a chance to find out what it was, leaving in as much of a fury as she'd appeared.

It didn't take much thought for him to decide to follow her. He was still reeling from their spar, but he didn't think he could find his way back to his old location on his own. Robin knew something big, and he needed to know what it was. But first, he needed to be properly attired. Waltzing around the prison half naked would certainly draw attention. He glanced around the room quickly, grabbing the odd tunic on the bed.

Luckily it was night time, so there were fewer people roaming the halls. He spotted robin disappearing around a corner at the far end of the hallway. He wasn't able to move as quickly as he was used to but was still stealthy. Robin got into the magic moving box just as he came around the corner. Guy watched the indicator to see what floor she would end up on, then continued his chase once the box came back.

The doors opened upon a deserted hallway that looked vaguely familiar. He tried to remember which way he needed to go, finally giving up and taking a wild guess. He chose correctly, finally reaching a closed set of doors that he knew was the entrance to the area Robin worked. They were locked; he couldn't figure out how to get them open.

As he stood examining the door, trying to decide how to break in, they started to open. He barely had time to dart behind them before Jacqueline and the arrogant doctor rushed past. Guy was able to slip through the doors before they closed behind them.

The familiar sounds were comforting in the darkness. He saw the desk where Robin usually sat when she wasn't taking care of her wards. Across from it was his old room, still empty, the door opened and a small light shining on the freshly made bed. Guy ducked into a cubby hole as voices came around a corner. Robin, walking with another warden he didn't recognize.

"I know the police are doing all they can. There has to be someone who can make the decisions. Why can't they find anyone?" The unfamiliar woman asked Robin.

Robin stopped in front of the desk, back towards Guy as the other woman sat down. "I don't know. If we wait too much longer the decision will be made for us, either way." She sighed, leaning forward and putting her head in her hands. "I just don't get it, Liz. This is crazy, isn't it? Three unidentifiable people with mysterious injuries in a couple of weeks. The police have been all but clueless. None of them have told us anything of use. It's like I'm starting to lose my mind."

Shaking her head, Liz crossed her arms. "You're not crazy, Robin. Shit's weird. Too bad your handsome friend wasn't more helpful in getting answers."

"It's like he doesn't want us to find out. Maybe when Marian wakes up she'll be more forthcoming with information." Robin shrugged, walking away from the desk. "Speaking of, I should go check on her." Guy took note of which room she went in since his memory was fuzzy in regards to the night he wandered into Marian's room.

It was only a few moments until Robin came back out, immediately going into the next room over. That one must be where Hood is. Robin was in that room much longer. He wondered what she was doing in there, what the nature of Hood's injuries were. He would find out soon enough; the moment Robin came out he was planning to slip in and assess the situation.

This was the most physical activity he'd had in a long time, though he'd been working with Bill every day. Guy could feel the toll all of this exertion was taking in his body. He hoped he'd be able to make it back to his room. Maybe he'd misjudged his abilities, maybe following Robin was a mistake. It was too late to turn back now, though. He was already here, might as well follow through.

As quietly as possible, he slipped into the room. It was dark, the shadows filled with the familiar sound of beeping. The figure on the bed was perfectly still, partially concealed by the enormous number of devices connected to him. Guy knew it was Robin, without even looking at him. But he had to look, to gaze upon the face of his mortal enemy, the one that had ruined his life, taken everything he cared about in the world.

He paused. At some point in the days since he'd come to this strange place, his thirst for vengeance had faded, eaten alive by the guilt he carried. Was Hood the one who had ripped Marian away, or had she gone willingly? She had never really belonged to Guy, he knew in his heart that was true. As he stood staring down at Robin Hood, the outlaw weak, helpless, completely at his mercy, Guy found he couldn't hurt him further. They had done enough damage between the two of them, caused enough pain to span several lifetimes.

Lost in thought, he didn't notice the door open just enough for a small figure to slip in. With all the fight and anger gone, Guy was so exhausted. He was trapped here, with no way to get home. Really, with no home to go back to. A wave of despair washed over him, knocking the breath from his lungs and making him grab on to the railing of Hood's bed.

"I am sorry, Robin," he whispered. Sorry for what, he wasn't sure. For killing Marian? She was alive, though he supposed Hood didn't know that. For spending so much time and energy trying to kill him? For all the atrocities he'd committed against the innocent people of Nottingham? There wasn't enough penance in the world to cover his sins. The weight of it all was too much. He crumbled, silent tears falling to the floor as he fell to his knees. The movement caused his wound to throb, but he welcomed the pain. It felt like the punishment he deserved.

A gentle hand on his shoulder startled him from his misery, forcing his attention back to the present reality. Of course, it was Robin, crouching next to him. He'd been a fool to think his presence would escape her notice, she who kept such close watch over her prisoners.

"You shouldn't be here," she said quietly. The fire from earlier was gone. Her voice didn't sound angry, just concerned. He wondered how long she had been in the room. He didn't say anything in response, couldn't even bring himself to look at her, not with the tears still forcing their way out of his eyes.

Her hand reached out and cupped his chin, gentling turning his face towards her. "Guy. Look at me." He closed his eyes tightly, trying to stop the onslaught of emotions that were ripping through his heart. She held his face softly in her hands, using her thumbs to wipe away his tears. "Please." The quiet plea in her voice made him open his eyes, meeting her worried gaze.

"I need you to tell me what's going on," she said, kindly but firmly.

Guy shook his head. He couldn't tell her, couldn't tell anyone the truth of what had happened. He would sound like a lunatic; surely, they would have him carted off, committed to an asylum. She dropped her hands to his shoulders, shaking him a little. "You don't understand," she said with more vehemence. "The police, they're not going to stop until they have answers. They're not going to just let you go on your merry way. Trust me, talk to me. I want to help you, Guy, if you'll just let me."

 _Trust me_. The last person he had trusted was Marian, and that was a mistake. He wouldn't make the same mistake again. "I'm sorry. I can't," he whispered, looking away from the intensity of her stare.

Robin stood up, sighing. "Then I can't help you anymore. I don't know what the police will do once you're ready for discharge, but they won't give up. The detective assigned to your case, I know him. He won't stop until he has answers." Guy had gathered from his interactions with these "police" that they were this world's law enforcement. They weren't as scary as Robin was making them out to be, in his opinion. He knew he could handle whatever tactics they might use to make him talk.

She reached down a hand to help him to his feet, using all her strength to pull him up. He was a bit unsteady, wavering a moment before regaining his balance. "It isn't good for you to be doing so much so soon," Robin said, holding onto his arms until he seemed sturdy enough to stand on his own. He felt the loss of her touch acutely as she let go of him.

Neither of them was paying attention to the man in the hospital bed, who had opened his eyes and was watching them with a burning hatred. He didn't know where he was, or who this woman was, but he recognized the way Guy was looking at her. It was the same way he'd looked at Marian all those times when Robin had hidden in the shadows watching them together. How dare he look at another woman like that, after killing the one he claimed to love? It just proved that Guy had never had true feelings for her, which made his actions seem so much more cruel and barbaric.

He thought to let them leave without saying anything, but his anger was too great. "Gisborne." His voice was scratchy from disuse, but he managed to make the word sound menacing enough. Guy and the woman both visibly startled, looking quickly towards the bed.

"Oh, you're awake," the woman said, seeming concerned, moving closer to look at Robin more intently. "How do you feel?"

Robin tried to clear his throat, which caused pain to shoot through his body. "I feel," he said, pausing to look past the woman and lock eyes with Guy, who was watching him warily. "I feel like I'm going to kill you, Gisborne." He meant it, too, Guy could tell. And Guy would probably let him if Hood were in any condition to follow through on his words. But he wasn't, and they both knew it. Guy wondered how much of their conversation he had overheard. He didn't really want to stick around and find out, either. Maybe it was the perfect time to make his escape, while Robin was distracted by her new patient.

One glance at the small blonde figure beside him put that idea to rest. She was watching him closely out of the corner of her eye, making escape impossible at the moment. Guy knew he wouldn't be able to overpower her again, not with the pain and exhaustion that was coming over him. It was a miracle that he was managing to stay upright at all.

"I'd love to address that," she said, looking at the numbers listed in the box above his bed. She seemed to make a decision, "But I'm afraid I need to work on getting Guy back to his room. I'm glad you're awake, by the way. I think we have some things to talk about." With those words, she shot a scathing glance at Guy, who felt more like falling over with every passing moment. "I'll call Jackie and see if she's able to help us out real quick," Robin added, apparently realizing she had her hands full.

Looking out the door to make sure no one was around, Robin led Guy quickly to a small room with several chairs. She helped him into one of the chairs before pulling out a small device from a pocket of her breeches. Guy was too busy focusing on not passing out to pay attention to the soft words she spoke into the device, but it wasn't long before Jackie appeared, pushing one of the rolling chairs to which he was growing accustomed. He was incredibly grateful for it, in fact, knowing that there was no way he could make it back to his room on his own two feet.

The women had a quick and whispered conversation before helping him into the chair. "Make sure his nurse keeps a closer eye on him," Robin said as she stepped away.

"I will. It's Bridget again, she'll be cool." Jackie replied, grabbing the handles on the chair and starting to push down the hall.

Robin caught Guy's eye on more time before they left the room. "This isn't over," she said, the calmness of her voice in opposition to the fire in her eyes. "We'll talk later." He found it almost comforting, knowing that this wouldn't be the last time he saw her, even though he knew Robin meant the words as a threat. He just nodded in response, afraid of what words would pour out if he spoke.

Wheeling the chair with a sense of purpose and authority, Jackie managed to avoid any questions from the people they passed in the hall. She didn't talk to Guy, either, and since he couldn't see her face, he dreaded what she might be thinking. He didn't know what Robin had told her about him and their interactions, but he didn't think Jackie was the type to take kindly to someone making trouble for her friend.

When they finally got back to Guy's room, Jackie parked the wheeled chair near the bed but didn't move to help him get back into bed. "Don't you dare move out of this chair until I get back," she said firmly, walking back out of the room. Guy wasn't sure where she was going, or when she would be back, but he didn't feel up to facing her wrath if he disobeyed her orders.

She wasn't gone long, though he was dying to be back in bed. She seemed pleased to find Guy exactly where she had left him. "Alright, let's get you settled back in then. As if I don't have more important things to be doing than carting you around. Would it kill you to not cause trouble for one day of your life?" Jackie was muttering to herself as she helped him get up from the chair, either not noticing or not caring about the grimace he wore from the effort. Her words struck close to home, too; she had no idea how much trouble he caused on a regular basis.

Sighing, Jackie sunk into the rolling chair that Guy had just vacated. "I told Bridget you might need some pain medicine if you want it," she said. So that's, where she had gone, to talk to his night warden. Probably to tell her all the mischief he'd been up to. Guy felt like a schoolboy who was waiting to be punished for putting a frog in his sister's bed.

"I don't know what your deal is, dude," Jackie said, leaning forward suddenly, "but you can't keep playing games with Robin. I know she seems tough like she can handle anything, but it's all an act. She's delicate. Don't you dare hurt her." She paused, waiting to see if he had anything to say for himself. He didn't, so she continued. "Robin likes you, though I'm beginning to wonder why. She's going to keep digging until she figures out what's going on. What I'm trying to say is, I guess, if you're not interested in her, don't lead her on. And if you need to talk to someone about whatever this whole thing is, there's no one better and more trustworthy than Robin. She would do anything to help you if you're willing to let her."

The silence weighed heavily on them both after Jackie's rant. She obviously had said what she needed to say and was waiting for a response. "Thank you for your assistance," Guy said stiffly, struggling to process everything she had said. "I… I'll think about what you said." That was all he could give her, the only reassurance that what she had said hadn't fallen on deaf ears. He closed his eyes, signaling that their conversation was over whether she liked it or not. It was probably a good idea to rest while he could, because he had the feeling that Jackie's ire was nothing compared to what was to come from her friend.

 _England, 1193_

The injured patient drifted in and out of consciousness, seemingly straddling this life and the next. When he was able to speak, it was nonsensical words that poured out of his mouth, the mutterings of a fevered and confused mind. He was a tortured soul, that was obvious. Tuck wondered at the morality of forcing him to stay in this world, knowing that he wanted so badly to move on. He was struggling to reach the place that he thought his love could be found.

He had heard stories of what happened in the Holy Land, the tragic tale of love lost and lives taken. He also knew how such stories quickly became embellished, forcing him to wonder how much was steeped in the truth. Regardless, Marian was dead, as was Sir Guy of Gisborne. It was hard to imagine the events that had led to their deaths, even with all the stories circulating. Marian, that was one word that could be heard throughout the garbled speeches that Robin Hood moaned in the night. Maybe, Tuck thought, it would be better to let him go to her.

But he was important; he had a higher calling than even the purest of loves. The people of Nottingham- no, all of England- needed him. The man, the legend, Robin Hood was the only thing that could save them all. So, Tuck continued to work, fearing it was a losing battle as he saw the broken outlaw continue to fade. Perhaps the call of the other side was too great, after all.


	16. Chapter 16

Of course, he followed me. I don't know why I was surprised. He thought he was being sneaky, but I knew the sounds and the halls of the hospital like the back of my hand. I spent more time there than my own home some weeks, so I noticed the soft fall of his footsteps and rustle of his pants. I thought I would be able to shake him at the elevators or at the very least the double doors leading into our locked unit. Jackie and the code team having to rush out was unlucky timing.

It felt important to try not to draw any more attention to the situation. I hated sneaking around, hated the underhanded feeling of hiding things from my team, but things seemed precarious, especially considering the police's interest in the patients. The less interaction Guy had with the detectives on the case, the better. Him skulking around the ICU would definitely raise some alarms.

That's why I decided to wait to confront him in the relative privacy of this new patient's room. It was a tough choice; I was moderately concerned about the stranger's safety, based on the reaction I'd gotten from Guy when I mentioned his name. It reminded me of the man I found in the parking lot that day that felt so long ago, the one that threw me to the ground like a ragdoll, the one that fought with every fiber of his being against anything we did to help him. It was Guy, but not the man I'd come to know. I was having trouble reconciling those two people into one that made sense.

I followed him into the room, planning on getting him out of there as fast as possible. I wasn't expecting him to break down. Seeing him, obviously hurting, dampened my anger somewhat. What was he so sorry for? I felt like that was the key to everything, finding out the answer that that question.

Trying to stay quiet, I walked over and crouched next to Guy, putting my hand on his shoulder. He startled a bit but didn't look at me, didn't say anything. "You shouldn't be here." Of course, he knew that as well as I did. His body was trembling slightly, hunched over and holding his side with a grimace. It was obvious that he was in pain, amazing that he had made it from the floor all the way to the ICU on his own two legs.

He still hadn't really acknowledged my presence. His face was soft and smooth under my hands when I tugged his chin towards me, trying to make him pay attention. He closed his eyes tight, squeezing out a few more tears that I wiped away. "Please." That got him to look at me, finally. I knew he wouldn't tell me the truth, but I needed to try. He didn't understand, didn't know what I did about the police, especially now. "Trust me," I was basically begging him, but it didn't matter. He was a fortress of secrets, unwilling or unable to let me in.

"I'm sorry, I can't." It was the answer I was expecting, but still a disappointing one. I couldn't hold back the sigh as I stood up, mind already working on how to get him back to his room undetected. I had heard through the grapevine that Adam was assigned to his case. That scared me; he wasn't the kind of person to just give up, especially once he realized that I was connected to all this somehow. Guy didn't know what he was getting into.

Reaching down to help him stand up, I noted once again how unsteady he was. "You shouldn't be doing so much so soon," I said, holding him up until he got his feet under him. He didn't answer but stared at me with an intensity that made me uncomfortable. I was trapped by his gaze for a moment when the silence was broken by the only other person in the room.

"Gisborne." The voice was scratchy and low, filled with hatred. I had not realized that the mysterious man in the bed was awake and able to tell who was nearby. My nurse brain instantly flipped on, pulling me closer to the bed to check on my patient who was now fully, unexpectedly awake.

I looked him over quickly, not noting any apparent distress. "How do you feel?" I asked, hoping this one would at least give me some answers.

The man- Robin, I assumed- cleared his throat and grimaced, not looking at me at all when he answered. "I feel like I'm going to kill you, Gisborne," he said, staring straight at Guy, who just stared back at him, expressionless. Guy didn't say anything, didn't even flinch, but looked at the door as if considering making a break for it. I caught his eye and gave him a stern look, indicating that I wasn't about to let him just leave like that.

Turning my attention back to my patient, I thought for a moment. He seemed stable enough, if a bit angry and probably delirious. But he wasn't going anywhere, that was for sure. His vitals were not too bad. I wanted to ask him so many questions, especially since he just admitted he wanted to murder someone. I needed to get Guy out of there, first, though. Taking him back to his room myself would take way too much time away from my patients, and there was no way he could make it alone. Guy looked like he was about to pass out on the floor at any moment.

"I'll call Jackie and see if she's able to help us out real quick," I said before peeking out to make sure the coast was clear. I was able to lead Guy to the nearest waiting room, which was thankfully empty, before he collapsed into the closest chair. Better tell Jackie to bring a wheelchair, too.

Seeing that Guy wasn't going anywhere, I went ahead and gave Jackie a call. "So, we have a situation up here. Are you busy?" I asked, explaining what had gone down. The code she had ran off to had turned out to be a false alarm, so she wasn't busy at the moment and promised to come by with a wheelchair in the next few minutes.

She was faster than I expected, which was a good thing. "I need to get back in there and see if this new patient is willing to give me any answers," I whispered to Jackie as she rolled up.

"God, I hope so. This mess is exhausting and I'm not even the one dealing with it," she said with a small smile. We helped Guy transfer from the chair to the wheelchair, shooting each other a concerned glance over how much assistance he needed.

I stepped back, about to go back into the new patient's room. "Make sure his nurse keeps a closer eye on him," I said, hoping Jackie understood my meaning. Not just because he was a flight risk, but I had a feeling he would need closer monitoring overall.

She nodded with understanding, starting to push the wheelchair. "It's Bridget again, she'll be cool." That was comforting; I knew Bridget. We had gone to school together. I knew she was a good nurse. She was probably quietly freaking out, wondering where her patient was. She was the kind of nurse to notice such things, but to try and handle them on her own if she could. Hopefully, Guy's absence hadn't upset her too much.

"This isn't over," I said to Guy, "we'll talk later." I hadn't meant it as a threat, but it sounded like one. He didn't say anything, just nodded as Jackie pushed him away. I sighed, wanting nothing more than to slide into one of those chairs myself and take a break from all this madness. But there was a patient waiting for me in another room, one that hopefully had some answers for me.

He was still awake when I got back in, looking around with curiosity. "Where am? Everything looks so foreign." He said, sounding a lot clearer and with it.

I assumed he was from the same place as Guy, so I answered vaguely. "You're in a hospital in America," I said.

Puzzled, he thought about that for a moment. "This doesn't look like any 'hospital' I've ever seen," he said finally. "And I've never heard of this 'America'. Your accent, it is very odd." This confirmed my suspicion that he and Guy were from the same place. Where that place was, I still wasn't sure.

"Maybe your accent is the odd one," I said, trying not to jump in immediately with my questions. He smiled a little at that; he had a better sense of humor than Guy, that was for sure. "How's your pain?" I asked, remembering he was my patient and I should at least take care of him as such.

Pausing to take a brief inventory, he shrugged. "It is manageable. I'd like to know more about this place. Excuse me, I've been impolite. My name is Robin, what's yours?"

I gave him a friendly smile in return. "My name is Robin," I said.

That drew a small laugh. "What are the odds of that, I wonder. It's nice to meet you, Robin. Strange name for a girl, I must say. Maybe your parents were hoping for a male heir."

His words rubbed me the wrong way, but I tried to push down my irritation. "I think my parents just liked the name. Besides, I have an older brother." It was a lie, but I had the irrational desire to defend myself against this stranger's criticism. "So, you know Guy, I gather?"

That earned me a sneer. "He lets you call him 'Guy', does he?" Robin practically spat out the name he spoke with such contempt.

"What else would I call him? That's the name he told me."

He had a sort of wicked smirk now as if he knew something I didn't. Which, I supposed, was perfectly true. "I think he prefers 'Lord Gisborne' or 'sir', or perhaps 'master' in certain circumstances." I got the distinct feeling that he assumed I was closely acquainted with Guy and those circumstances.

There was no reason to let this random dude ruffle my feathers so much, but there I was, getting all worked up. "Well, I don't know what to tell you. Guy is the only name he's given us." I decided to go ahead and do a full set of vitals and an assessment to keep my hands busy. The patient watched with interest as I put his blood pressure cuff on. "How do you and Guy know each other?" I asked, trying to seem uninterested. He already seemed more willing to talk than Guy ever had.

"Our families have known each other for years," he said, "unfortunately. Him leaving for France was the best thing that ever happened. Pity he had to come back and ruin everything."

His blood pressure and temperature were all good, but his heart was beating a little faster the more he talked. "And Marian? How do you know her?"

It was as if I'd shocked him. He went perfectly still, losing all color in his face. "How do you know about Marian?" He whispered, losing all bravado and charm.

"Well, she said your name, so I just assumed—" He grabbed my wrist with surprising strength, cutting off my words.

"She's here? Alive?" He stared at me with a mixture of hope and despair, the eyes of someone who thought they had nothing left to live for. Crap. I had said too much. Why did everyone think this woman was dead? Alarms starting blaring from the monitor above the bed.

I tried to shake off his grip and step back, but he wouldn't let go, and I didn't want to hurt him. "I'm really not supposed to say anything." It was a weak excuse, but he relaxed back against the pillows, heart still racing. I silenced the alarms before anyone else decided to come to check on us.

He looked at me closely again, trying to read my face or my thoughts. "No, of course. You've said enough. Marian is alive, I can feel it now." He smiled, narrowing his eyes a bit. "Gisborne hasn't told you then, I gather."

The expression on his face made me think I didn't want to know, but I needed answers. "Told me what?" I asked cautiously, afraid of what he might say.

"That he's the one who stabbed Marian. In a fit of rage, ran her straight through with his sword." His words made me sick and dizzy like the ground was moving under my feet. I had no reason to believe this stranger, someone who obviously harbored no kind feelings towards Guy. But, in the back of my mind, it made sense. Why he hated Guy so much, why Guy seemed like he was being eaten alive by guilt. And a sword wound actually fit her injuries more than any other object we had come up with. The puzzle pieces started falling into place, and they weren't making a pretty picture.

"Doesn't feel good, does it?" Robin kept speaking when he realized I wasn't going to respond. "Finding out you've been lied to. Gisborne is a master deceiver, has been ever since we were children." The man was positively gleeful at being the one to tell me this.

I straightened up, having heard enough for the moment. "And what about you? You're some saint then, I suppose?"

That took his smile away. "No," he said solemnly, at least looking a little remorseful. "You're right. I'm the one who stabbed Gisborne. He deserved to die, but it was an act of revenge. He tried to take the woman I loved from me, my wife, my everything. He doesn't deserve to live on happily. I will ensure that he doesn't, if it is the last thing I do."

The stone-cold quality of his voice was terrifying. He truly believed he was right, and I could tell he wouldn't hesitate to finish the job. If he got well enough to get out of bed, Guy was in very real danger. And I couldn't let anything happen to him. "We don't take kindly to that sort of vigilante justice around here," I said. "This is the 21st century, not the dark ages."

He looked at me sharply, eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, the 21st century?" He asked cautiously. He was just as strange as Guy, then, maybe even more strange.

"You know, 2018. The 21st century. Do you not have schools where you're from or something?" I had never met two denser people. Apparently, the English school system was failing its children.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Robin furrowed his brow, looking deep in thought. "I think I need to rest," he said finally, turning away and making it clear that he was done with the conversation. _Whatever_ , I shrugged. I had already gotten more information out of him than I'd bargained for. I probably needed to go check on Marian, either way.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the last unpleasant confrontation I would be dealing with that night. A police officer stood leaning on the desk of the nurses' station. Though his back was turned towards me, I'd recognize that sandy-haired officer anywhere. I cleared my throat to let him know I was there, knowing there was no way to avoid the interaction.

"Hello, Birdy, just the nurse I was looking for," he said, turning and putting on a million-dollar smile as if nothing had ever happened between us. Never mind the last time we'd spoken, he had thrown an engagement ring in my face. That he'd accused me of cheating because I'd asked one of the doctors to answer my phone while I was busy with a patient. That when I had said if he didn't trust me, we shouldn't be together, he pointed to the door.

We had managed to avoid each other pretty successfully. Even though he said he didn't want the ring back, I left it on his kitchen when I went to pick up my thing with Jackie on a day I knew he was at work. There were no drunken phone calls, no hints from mutual friends that he wanted to get back together. It was the most final, cut and dry breakup in the history of breakups. Yet it always felt unfinished, like I was waiting for him to give me a sign that it was okay to move on. But as far as I knew, he hadn't dated anyone since, either. It was like we were both in limbo, watching each other from afar, yet ignoring each other's existence.

So, for him to show up at my work, using my old nickname as if we had never broken up, like he had just decided to drop by and bring me dinner. It hurt. My heart felt split open from a wound that had never truly begun to heal. "What are you doing here, Adam?" I said in as firm a voice as I could muster under the circumstances.

He smiled again, looking me up and down like a starving man looks at a piece of meat. "Police records indicate that you've taken care of all three of the mystery patients, one of them pretty frequently, so I decided it would be a good idea to come and have a chat." He took out a small notepad and pencil, flipping to a blank page and looking at me innocently.

"And you had to come here, to my job, in the middle of the night?" I asked doubtfully, crossing my arms.

Adam shrugged. "I needed to talk to one of the patients, too, so I figured why not kill two birds with one stone? One of the other detectives noted some inconsistencies in the first patient's story. I was hoping I'd have better luck." On the force, he was known for his interrogation skills. I was never particularly proud of him for that designation, knowing what I did about the methods they used to get people to talk.

Knowing Guy, I didn't think Adam would make much progress, but I didn't tell him that. "Okay, well, what did you want to ask me? Make it quick, I have patients to take care of." He motioned me into the waiting room, taking a seat in the middle of the room so I had no choice but to sit closer to him than I'd like.

"You've been assigned patient number 1- the one called Guy- consistently since he's been here. Have you learned anything useful in your interactions?" He asked, pen poised and ready, eyebrows raised expectantly above those greenish blue eyes.

I shrugged. "You haven't met him, then, have you? You'll understand once you do. He's not the most cooperative or forthcoming person." I didn't think him and Adam were going to get along very well.

"What about the others? Have they told you anything? Anything at all, even if you don't think it's important, it could help us figure out what happened."

I didn't want to tell him anything, but I also wasn't thrilled with the idea of lying to the police. "Well, the girl is called Marian. And the other guy, the new one, he just told me his name is Robin."

He smirked at that. "Robin, huh? What are the odds? That's good he's awake. I'll try to chat with him in a bit, too. Anything else? Where they're from, how they're connected, anything?"

"England, both the Guy and Robin have told me that much. But that's about it. I really need to go, Adam." I didn't think that was too much information since he'd know they were from England as soon as he spoke with Guy, assuming Guy said anything at all.

Standing up, Adam nodded and put his notepad away. "Sure, okay. I'll go talk to this 'Guy' then. We'll be in touch, Robin. Don't hesitate to call me if you think or hear of anything else." He stood there awkwardly for a moment as if he couldn't decide whether to hug me or walk away. I put my hand out and he shook it a little too firmly, holding on for a little too long.

"Sure. Bye, Adam," I said, walking away. I couldn't get out of there fast enough. I thought of how his interview with Guy was going to go, and while the thought was amusing it also made me nervous. I didn't think Guy would tell him anything; that was part of the problem. Adam didn't appreciate someone questioning his authority. I shrugged off that anxiety and went to check on Marian.


	17. Chapter 17

The pain medicine was working. He hated it but was glad for something to dull the pain and his senses. He felt somewhat better knowing where Hood was, that he was in no condition to find him and finish the job. Robin was there, too. She wouldn't let anything happen.

At the back of that thought was something concerning. Would Robin be as inquisitive with Hood as she was with him? What would Hood tell her? Certainly not the truth, he thought. But then again, Hood was nothing if not unpredictable. If he had gotten any idea of how Guy felt about the girl, he could use that to his advantage. It was enough to make Guy consider going back down there, though he knew he'd never make it.

His night warden was very displeased with his little adventure and had given him a thorough lecture. Guy really hadn't meant to worry her; hadn't even thought she would notice he was gone. He should have known better; nothing gets passed the women in this place. At least he knew Robin was planning to come back. Hopefully, he'd be able to find out what Hood had told her.

There was a knock at his door. He assumed it was Robin, though it was sooner than he expected her to come. Maybe Hood had told her something so terrible that she marched up there right away. The thought almost made him smile, knowing how amusing she was when she was angry.

It wasn't Robin, though, that came through the door. It was a man, one he didn't think he'd met before. Guy had come to recognize the uniform the man wore as what the law enforcement of this time wore. This policeman had a different feeling to him, a more arrogant air. Guy was instantly put on alert before the man had even spoken.

"Ah, you must be the mysterious Guy I've heard so much about. My name is Adam, I'm one of the detectives assigned to your case." Guy ignored the hand that was offered to him, crossing his arms and remaining silent. "Yes, I've heard you're not the most cooperative person in the world. That's fine, I'm sure we'll get through that." The man pulled up a chair and straddled it, sitting uncomfortably close to Guy. "I told your nurse to give us some privacy for a bit. I think we have important things to talk about."

He didn't seem bother by the fact that he was having a one-sided conversation and was perfectly content talking to himself. "I just had a nice chat with Robin from the ICU," he smiled at the sharp look that earned him from Guy. "Oh, you know her, then? Yes, she was very helpful."

"I doubt that," Guy mumbled, scowling up at the ceiling.

Adam sat back, satisfied. "He speaks! I was beginning to think you were a mute. Now, why do you think it doubtful that Robin would be helpful? Is it because you haven't told her anything, or because you trust her?" He leaned forward again, trying to catch Guy's eye.

His efforts were met with an icy stare and an even colder voice. "I don't trust anyone," Guy said.

"Let's see, you're from England, you know at least one of the other mystery patients, Marian, right?" Guy couldn't help but flinch at Marian's name, a reaction that didn't escape the policeman's notice. "Odds are you know the other one, too. Robin. Does that sound right?"

Guy narrowed his eyes but didn't say anything else in response. It was probably best to keep his mouth shut from now on, for fear of giving anything else away. "Isn't that funny that they have the same name? I remember from the initial report that Robin thought she heard you calling out to her just before she found you. It wasn't her name you were saying, was it?" Adam could tell he was on to something with this line of thought. "That leads me to believe that this other Robin had something to do with your injuries. Is he the one that hurt you? Come on, you can tell me. We can protect you if you cooperate."

It was like talking to a brick wall and Adam was getting frustrated. "You can't expect me to believe that Robin has taken care of you for days on end and you haven't told her anything more than your name and where you're from. So, either she's protecting you or someone else, but either way, she's lying. Do you know what happens when you lie to the police?"

The continued silence from Guy was making the policeman more agitated by the moment. He was getting louder the longer his tirade went on until Bridget stuck her head in the room. "Excuse me, but you need to keep it down. We can all hear you out here." She looked at Guy to see if he was okay. He gave her a slightly pleading look. "Adam, I think it's time for you to go. The patient needs to rest." She opened the door and motioned for him to get out.

"This is just the beginning," he snapped at Guy, standing up and shooting a scorching look at Bridget. "And don't think I'll forget this, either." Bridget stood her ground, leaning in the doorway and making sure the angry officer actually left the floor.

As soon as she was sure he was gone, she pulled her communication device out and started speaking quietly. "Hey, it's Bridget. Your boy was just up here causing a ruckus with a patient. Just thought you might want to know in case he's headed back your way. He doesn't seem to be in the best mood." Her voice was low but Guy could still make out what she was saying. "Yeah, he's okay, nothing happened. No, I got the impression he didn't get what he was after. Okay, I'll keep an eye out." She put the device back in her pocket and turned to Guy.

"Thank you," he said, meaning it.

She shrugged. "It was my pleasure. Let's just say I'm not Adam's biggest fan." She absentmindedly straightened the items on the counter, not catching Guy's eye.

Her vague answer piqued his curiosity. "So, you are previously acquainted with that man, then?" he asked with feigned nonchalance. He realized this was probably the most words he had willingly spoken to Bridget thus far.

Eyeing him warily, she shrugged again. "You're weird, you know that? Yeah, I've known Adam for years, even before him and Robin dated." She was watching him carefully to see his reaction to that bit of information.

His brow was furrowed in confusion. "Dated?"

"Yeah, you know, they had a pretty serious thing. Together. They were a couple. They were going to get married, too, at one point." She was leaning on the counter, watching him. Guy got the distinct feeling that he was being studied closely, though not in a threatening way.

Understanding knocked the breath out of him as her words sunk in. "That… that man, he courted Robin? They were betrothed?" He struggled to sound unaffected but knew his voice betrayed him. "What happened between them?" He couldn't imagine Robin having romantic feelings towards that wretched man. Maybe she had been coerced or blackmailed into a betrothal. Much like he had coerced Marian. Guy shoved that thought down as soon as it surfaced.

Bridget just gave him a small smile in reply. "That's something you'll have to ask her, it's not my story to tell." As if that stopped her from telling him about their relationship in the first place, Guy thought bitterly. "Anyway," she continued, moving toward the door, "I'm sure she'll be up here soon to check on you. You can ask her then." With those words she was gone, leaving Guy alone with his whirlwind of thoughts.

The hours ticked by, slowly. He might have dozed a bit, but every sound pulled him out of sleep, thinking it was Robin coming to make sure he was alright. She did eventually come, in the early hours of the morning, looking as if the entire weight of the world were on her shoulders.

"Hey," she said, falling heavily into the chair next to the bed, the same chair that Adam had sat in just hours before. "I would have come sooner, but Bridget said you were resting. How're you feeling?"

It was a question he wasn't sure how to answer. On one hand, his body was doing surprisingly well considering the events of the night. On the other, his mind was in turmoil, working overtime to figure out the intricacies of the situation he and his contemporaries found themselves in. "I have been worse," he said, giving her a small smile of reassurance.

That bought him a small chuckle from Robin. "Oh, I'm sure. I hope Adam wasn't too hard on you." She said quietly, as if afraid to hear his answer.

"Ah, Adam. No, he was nothing but a minor annoyance." Robin looked relieved at that, though not quite certain he was telling the truth. "He seemed to be rather familiar with you, though, as if you were intimately acquainted." Guy was watching her carefully, close enough to see the blush creeping over her face.

She crossed her arms and looked away, unable to meet the intensity of his gaze. "I see Bridget has been running that mouth of hers," she mumbled. "Not that it's any of your business, but yes, we were engaged and now we are obviously not." That old fire was back, pulling her up straight and wiping the weariness from her face.

Guy smirked. "I can't imagine why it didn't work out. He seemed so charming."

A light slap on his shoulder surprised but amused him; he was glad that Robin seemed at least somewhat back to her old self. "Why are we even talking about this? You're the one who needs to be answering the questions." She was leaning forward, staring at him intently as if he was a puzzle she was trying to work out.

Her stare was too intense. Guy had to look away, examining the ceiling instead of looking into her eyes. "You know, Robin had a lot more to say than you ever have," she said quietly, watching to see his reaction.

"I'm sure. He never did know when to shut up." Guy crossed his arms defensively, feeling the walls coming up between them, brick by brick.

They were both silent for a moment, listening to the quiet hum of the hospital. "So, you've known each other a long time, then?" She finally asked.

It was time to make a decision. He could tell Robin was growing tired of his evasive answers and constant silence. How much longer would she put up with it? Guy thought her patience was coming to an end. Could he trust her? She had never given him any reason to doubt her. This world was strange and confusing; Guy was feeling the desperate need to confide in someone.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly before turning towards her and looking into her golden eyes. They held no hint of deceit or dishonesty. "Yes," he started, "We grew up together."

Her eyebrows shot up in surprise at getting an actual answer, but beyond that, she stayed calm. "Were you friends?" She asked, apparently deciding to start off gently before asking the questions she really wanted to be answered.

"Ah, no," he smiled sadly, "I wouldn't ever have called us friends. He was a spoiled brat, with no sense of responsibility for his own actions. That is not something he ever outgrew, I'm afraid." Talking about his childhood made his heartache. It was not a happy story.

Robin must have picked up on the sadness in his face. She reached out and grabbed his hand gently. The warmth from her small hands spread up his arm, chasing away some of the ghosts that were chilling his body. "I know this won't be easy to talk about," she said, looking down at their clasped hands to avoid his gaze, "but I need to know what happened. Between you, Marian, and Robin. He told me somethings that I… I just need to hear your side." She wouldn't look at him, was completely focused on her hands which were squeezing his fingers a bit more tightly than was comfortable.

"If I tell you the truth you will think me insane," he said quietly. He knew it was true. There was no satisfactory, logical explanation for how the three of them traveled from their time and land to end up in this strange place. The facts as he knew them would sound like the ramblings of a lunatic.

There was a sudden sense of loss as her hands released his, making him think she had given up. He closed his eyes, expecting to hear her leave, finally thwarted in her search for answers. Instead, she cupped his face, forcing him to look at her. "As long as you tell me the truth, I won't think you're crazy. Nothing can be crazier than the theories I've been cooking up in my imagination, anyway."

He cracked a smile at that. "We shall see," he said, bracing himself, wondering if he was actually considering trusting this strange girl in this strange land. Maybe he was crazy, after all.

"My name is Guy of Gisborne," he started, not quite sure where to begin. "My mother was French; my father was a knight who fought with the king in the Holy Land."

Robin's brow furrowed a bit at this, so he paused to allow her time to ask whatever question had come into her mind. "The king?" That wasn't what he expected. "The king of England, you mean?"

He wasn't sure what she was confused about. "Yes, England, where I am from," he said shortly.

"Sorry," she said, "There just hasn't been a king of England in well over 50 years." That surprised Guy. Maybe England had done away with the monarchy all together? Robin continued before he could ask. "The Queen herself is in her 90's, I believe."

Shrugging, Guy supposed it didn't really matter, though he couldn't imagine a woman ruling the empire on her own. "Ah, well, I do believe that is the problem." He paused, trying to decide how to say it. "Where I come from, Richard is the king, though a poor excuse for one. It's not so much _where_ I come from, I think, but _when_ that presents the issue…"

A second passed, and then a few more, with Robin staring blankly at him. "Hold on." She blinked, shook her head sharply, blinked again. "Are you telling me that you're from another time, as in, not this one?" Despite her promise, her voice was full of incredulity.

Guy nodded slowly, allowing her time to digest that information. "The year of our lord 1193, to be exact." He was watching her, waiting for her to freak out, call him insane, run away, anything but sit there.

"Okay," she nodded, taking a deep breath. "So, you're from the past. That makes sense." He wasn't sure it did, but before they could explore that further, an alarming sound came from the pocket of her breeches. "Shit, I have to go," she said, pulling out the small device she used to communicate with the other wardens. She was on her feet and out of the room with such speed that Guy almost wondered if he had dreamed her presence.

But she had left the door open, and through the doorway, he heard a blaring alarm coming from the hallway, immediately followed by a disembodied voice that sounded somewhat familiar. "Code Blue, ICU room 203, Code Blue, ICU room 203." Guy wasn't sure what that meant, but he recognized those numbers. They were the ones written on the outside of Marian's room. The voice from the sky sounded a bit frantic and frazzled, mirroring Robin's expression just before she left in such a hurry.

There was something very wrong, he could feel it. Doors were opening all down the hall, whispered voices asking what was wrong as other inmates were pulled from their sleep by the alarm. His ears picked up a hushed conversation outside his door. "That's weird, I don't think I've ever heard them call a code for the ICU," an unfamiliar voice said.

"They usually don't. Only when the code team is off the unit or if it's really bad and they need backup from the ER," Bridget responded, sounding worried. "It's never a good sign."

Fear gripped Guy's heart at her words. He felt the sudden need to be down there, to see what was going on in Marian's room. He needed to know if she was okay or not. The feeling was so overwhelming that he found himself getting out of bed and creeping towards the doorway, checking to make sure the coast was clear in the hall. Before he even realized what was happening, he was in the magic box, headed down the same path that Robin had just taken in such a frenzy.

There was chaos when he got there, enough that it was easy to slip in unnoticed. The doors to Marian's room were thrown wide open, with all the lights on and a crowd of people around, spilling into the hallway. It was like a beehive, a flurry of activity and, from the outside eye, disorder. In stark contrast to the usual quiet activity of the unit, there was noise and confusion. Robin was there, seemingly the director of the orchestra. The smug doctor was next to Robin, barking orders in an eerily calm voice. There were people Guy had never seen before, and a few he recognized from his time on the unit. Jackie was there, of course, looking focused and almost terrifying, hammering away at the chest of the figure that lay at the center of the madness.

The scene was familiar in a strange way. Guy realized a similar scene had played out at his bedside not too long ago, knew the feeling of someone rhythmically pressing on his chest to keep him alive. That is what they were doing to Marian, his Marian. Fighting to keep her alive against all odds, against the will of the gods. It was useless, he thought, to fight against fate. But then again, he knew the intrepid strength of these women, bravely fighting against all odds to keep someone alive, worthy or not. It was the complete opposite of what Guy had done. Saving the unworthy versus killing the innocent.

Time seemed to drag to a standstill as he waited to see what the outcome of this particular battle would be. Who would win, the brave wardens of this strange world, or the cruel hand of fate? He could do nothing but watch, unnoticed, as the battle waged on. At some point in the eternity that he stood watching, Guy noticed a presence next to him. Looking over, there was Robin Hood, his arch-enemy, the person he hated most in the world. But somehow, he couldn't bring himself to do anything about the other man's existence, couldn't pull his eyes away from the scene before him long enough to even contemplate doing something about Hood's company.

Eventually, the activity died down. The exhausted workers looked forlornly at the still body before them, before glancing back at the arrogant doctor for further instruction. He had the decency to look sad, shaking his head and saying, "I think we've done all we can do."

With those words, Robin Hood dropped to the floor next to Guy of Gisborne, attracting attention and starting the chaos once again.


	18. Chapter 18

Everyone was stable, that was a blessing. Still, I had countless things to do over the next couple of hours, so I couldn't even think about going up to check on Guy for a good while. It was too long before I got a call from Bridget, letting me know that Adam had been up to the floor and questioned Guy. It didn't sound like he got much out of him, but I still wanted to go and make sure everything was okay up there. I knew how Adam could be when he latched on to something.

When I got a moment, I texted Bridget to see how things were going. She told me Guy was sleeping, finally, so I decided to let him rest a bit before going over there and bothering him. Maybe that would give me time to think, anyway. I was working so hard to find a reasonable explanation for everything that had happened but was coming up blank. It was frustrating, not understanding what was going on. I was the type of person who wanted to know every single detail about my patients. And now, I had two of them that I knew nothing about.

Then there was Guy. He wasn't my patient anymore, that was true. But I still cared about him, almost an alarming amount. Something about him made me pause, made my heart ache. None of it made sense. He was the first patient I had ever felt such a connection with. It seemed so wrong to have any sort of feelings towards a patient.

As the hours ticked by and I worked, taking care of my patients on autopilot, my mind turned in a circle but made no progress. I finally decided it was as good a time as any to go see Guy. My patients were fine for the moment, both asleep. It was the perfect time to take a walk, that time of night that everyone started to get a little drowsy. We all had things we did to stay awake; walking was one of mine.

He was awake when I slipped in the room, looking like he hadn't slept much at all. My heart jumped a little just at the sight of him. That wasn't good. There was a chair next to the bed that was calling my name, every muscle in my body suddenly screaming in exhaustion. I was physically and mentally drained. "How're you feeling?" I asked, not expecting an honest reply.

"I have been worse," he said after a moment. I believed him; judging from the scars I had seen on his body, he had been through much worse in his life.

I probably didn't have much time, so I decided to get right to the point. "I hope Adam wasn't too hard on you," I said, holding my breath as I waited for him to respond. There was no telling what Adam had said or done to him.

Guy's small smile and assurance that he was no worse for wear were a relief. "He seemed to be rather familiar with you, though, as if you were intimately acquainted." His words made my heart jump into my throat and my face heat up. I could feel his eyes on me, watching to see how I reacted.

It irritated me that people were going around spreading my business. "We were engaged and now we are obviously not." It was the most simplified version of events I could come up with, hopefully clear enough to say that I wasn't open to a discussion about it.

His smirk surprised me. "I can't imagine why it didn't work out. He seemed so charming." I didn't know the mysterious man had such a sense of humor. It was just another layer to this complex man that I was struggling to figure out. His face was still tired and drawn, though he looked more at ease than usual. That look disappeared the instant I mentioned Robin; his defenses were almost visible as he shrunk back into his shell. I was worried I'd already lost any progress we'd made.

"He never did know when to shut up." The brief statement told me more about their relationship than anything he'd said so far.

After we sat in silence for a moment, I decided to press forward. "So, you've known each other a long time, then?"

It was obvious that he was thinking very deeply about something, fighting an internal war that seemed to rage for eons. Finally, he looked resigned and took a deep breath. "Yes, we grew up together."

I wasn't really expecting a straight answer, so his sudden openness caught me off guard. As he told me about Robin, his sadness had a physical presence, as if it were another person in the room. I grabbed his hand before I could stop myself. His hand was rough and cold, but somehow gentle. Everything Robin had said came rushing back into my head. I needed to know the truth and needed to hear it from Guy himself.

"If I tell you the truth, you will think me insane," he said. Would that be so different from what I was already thinking? I didn't think he was crazy, per se, but he definitely wasn't the most normal person I had ever met. There was something off about him, something I couldn't place. He had the answer if I could just get him to open up.

He looked resigned when I let go of his hand, closing his eyes as if he had finally succeeded in driving me away. They flew open when I cupped his face, turning it towards me, forcing him to meet my eyes. "As long as you tell me the truth, I won't think you're crazy. Nothing can be crazier than the theories I've been cooking up in my imagination, anyway." I wasn't sure that was true, but I wanted it to be.

The decision was clear on his face. He had finally decided to trust me. I braced myself for whatever explanation was coming. "My name is Guy of Gisborne," he said quietly. "My mother was French; my father was a knight who fought with the king in the Holy Land."

There was a lot to unpack in just that short statement. He paused, seeming to know that I already had questions. _King._ That was the most glaring inconsistency. If he was from England, the last king had been dead for at least 50 years or more. My mind struggled with the math. His dad would have to have been… very old to have fought with the king. "The king of England, you mean?" I wanted to make sure. Did France still have a king? My European knowledge was apparently very lacking.

The question seemed to irritate him for some reason. Maybe it wasn't the one he was expecting. Either way, his affirmative answer bristled with annoyance. Temper, temper.

"Sorry," I quickly tried to smooth over his anger. "There just hasn't been a king of England in well over 50 years." He raised his eyebrows at this, looking even more surprised when I mentioned the Queen.

Then he shrugged, seeming to brace himself for what he was about to say next. "Ah, well, I do believe that is the problem." He paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Where I come from, Richard is the king, though a poor excuse for one. It's not so much where I come from, I think, but _when_ that presents the issue..." he trailed off, waiting to see if I understood what he was saying.

I didn't. I sat back, trying to decipher his meaning. _When he's from._ What did that mean? How can you be from any time but now? That was ridiculous. "Are you telling me that you're from another time, as in, not this one?" I could hear the disbelief in my own voice, even though I was trying to stay calm.

He heard it too, I could tell, but nodded anyway. After a moment he continued. "The year of our lord 1193, to be exact." He sounded so calm and sure about it, as if it were the most normal thing to say in the world.

Somehow, I believed him. It was absolutely insane, but, in a way, it made complete sense. Just saying those words made me feel like a crazy person. Just then, a piercing alarm tore through the room.

My heart sunk as a pulled the phone out of my pocket. The alert on the screen confirmed my fears. _Code Blue, room 203_. I took off running as the overhead pager rang out and echoed the words on my phone. I was back on the unit faster than I had thought possible, barreling into Marian's room and into an all too familiar scene.

Jackie was hammering out compression with skill and efficiency of a machine while Dr. Williams oversaw the madness.

It didn't take long to realize we were fighting a losing battle, one none of us wanted to give up on. We kept going, doing what we did best, fighting off the angel of death. But it was no use; finally, Dr. Williams shook his head sadly and called it.

This was the part where things usually quieted down; some of us would stay and clean up, doing the postmortem care and getting everything settled. Everyone else would filter back to their normal programming until we all met back up for a debriefing. We weren't so lucky, though.

"I think we've done all we can do." In the silence after those words, there was a thump. Every head in the room swiveled to the doorway, where Guy stood with a shell-shocked look on his face. But he wasn't looking at Marian's body in the center of the room. His attention was focused on the still body on the floor. Robin.

It took a second for everyone to process the scene, but as soon as they did we were rolling again. Someone went and grabbed another code cart as Dr. Williams pushed Guy out of the way and checked Robin's pulse. "He's not responsive. Give us some space!" We quickly rolled Robin onto his back and got to work.

My arms were screaming from exhaustion as tears pricked the corners of my eyes. _Two patients in one night._ It was the only coherent thought in my brain as someone tapped on my shoulder to trade out for compressions. We kept fighting long past the point where it was obviously useless. No one wanted to give up.

Another battle lost. We sat on the floor, staring at the still body in front of us, too exhausted to move for a moment. A crash in the hallway broke the silence again. _Will the madness of tonight never end?_ I felt like I was in nursing hell as I jumped to my screaming feet, fully expecting to see Guy dead on the floor.

What I actually saw wasn't much of a relief. Adam had a struggling Guy pinned to the wall, a grim smile on his face. "Seems like the stakes just got raised- this is now a murder investigation. And here is my number one suspect." He pushed Guy a little harder against the wall. Guy grimaced in pain but didn't make a sound.

I was about to rush over and step in, but Jackie beat me to it. Pulling herself up to her full height, she grabbed Adam by the shoulder and spun him around, catching him off guard. Guy sagged against the wall, gasping for air and clutching at his side. "How dare you come in here, into my ICU, while we are trying to save people's lives…" Jackie started to go off on Adam with a blazing look in her eye.

"Are you okay?" I caught Guy as he wobbled, struggling under his weight. Dr. Williams appeared on the other side, taking the bulk of the weight. Guy seemed to wilt by the moment. "We need to get him off his feet," I said quickly. Dr. Williams nodded in agreement as we moved towards an empty room and helped Guy onto the bed. I could hear Adam and Jackie still arguing in the background. That was a familiar sound.

Guy looked terribly pale lying in the bed, looking around with a blank stare. "Guy?" I cupped his cheek, making him look at me. "I need you to say something." He blinked slowly but still didn't speak. It seemed like his body was here, but his mind was somewhere else entirely.

"I need leads and a cuff," Dr. Williams barked at one of the people that had filtered into the room. He checked Guy's pulses, listened to his lungs, looked at his pupils. All with almost no response from the patient. Leads were placed, vitals taken. Everything looked fairly normal. "Okay," the doctor's eyebrows were furrowed in confusion. He didn't like not knowing what to do. "Let's check his wound then."

We pulled up his shirt to examine the wound. It looked slightly irritated, but nothing too concerning. "He seems fine. Get someone to take him back up to his room, I guess," Dr. Williams said, stepping back with a shrug.

I shook my head firmly. "He's obviously not fine. Look at him!" Guy was still staring off into the distance. He showed no reaction to our conversation. "You know how he normally is, Matt. This isn't normal."

Dr. Williams sighed, looking back down at the patient. He knew I was right. "Okay. Let's get him back up to his room, then I'll talk to his doctor up there and see what we should do."

Things had finally calmed down in the hallway. Jackie slipped in the room. "He's gone, for now," she murmured, coming up beside me. "But he'll be back, with reinforcements, too. He says he's placing Guy under arrest."

"Like hell he is." We both looked up, surprised at the outburst from the doctor. "I'm tired of that arrogant jackass waltzing in here like he owns the place." The irony of him calling someone else arrogant was not lost on either of us.

Transport arrived quickly with a stretcher to take Guy back to the floor. As we were loading him up, Adam reappeared with several officers. Dr. Williams' back stiffened as he stood between Guy and the officers. "Where do you think you're going with our suspect?" Adam sneered.

The doctor smirked back. "Your suspect is my patient, and I'm taking him to get the care he needs."

"What care? He looks fine to me." Adam made a move towards the stretcher as if he was prepared to take Guy in by force. Guy hadn't moved a muscle during the encounter, except to passively allow us to lead him to the stretcher. He wasn't looking at anyone, just staring off into the distance as if he didn't know where or who he was.

Before anyone could stop him, Adam was next to the stretcher, ordering Guy to stand up. Guy didn't comply, didn't even look at him. "I said get up!" He reached for Guy's arm, about to pull him to his feet. A large hand shot out like a bullet, wrapping around Adam's neck in the blink of an eye.

The officers' reaction time was impressive; they were on Guy faster than we could even process what was happening. They struggled to get Guy to release his death grip on Adam's neck, but he just squeezed harder the more they tried. Adam's face was turning red, his eyes looking panicked as he weakly clutched at Guy's arm.

Despite everything that had happened between us, I couldn't stand idly by while he was strangled to death. Plus, this wasn't helping Guy's case, though I thought we'd be able to make an argument for insanity at this point. I slipped through the tangle of officers until I was close enough to reach out and touch Guy's shoulder.

"Guy." His head snapped around at the sound of my voice, his hand relaxing a little. "Hey." I was able to scootch closer as the officers let me through. "Listen," I said, trying to keep my voice as calm and soothing as possible. His eyes were locked on mine, still hazy and distant but at least his gaze was more focused. "I need you to let Adam go, okay?" I laid my hand on his forearm, pulling gently. "Please."

Finally, he let go. Adam stumbled back, gasping for air. The officers went to move in, but he motioned for them to hold back. He was watching me and Guy as I tucked his arm back onto the stretcher. Guy's eyes were still focused on me, but it was as if he wasn't seeing anything. I absentmindedly pulled up his blanket and smoothed it over him, worried.

Adam rubbed at his neck, finally catching his breath. It was already obvious that he was going to have a nasty, hand-shaped bruise. "You should go downstairs and get checked out," I said.

He shook his head. "Not until we haul this scumbag back to the station for questioning."

"I already told you, you're not taking him anywhere," Dr. Williams said, standing his ground. He motioned towards the door, "Now, his nurse is here to take him back to his room. Let her through."

Someone had called Bridget, who had just arrived looking confused and ready for a fight. "You need to keep a closer watch on your patients," Adam said angrily, turning towards her.

It was almost comical seeing the normally sweet and calm floor nurse stalk up to Adam, finger in his face. "And you need to keep a close watch on your mouth," she said. I had never realized so many people had hard feelings against Adam, but I guess in a small hospital word gets around. Regardless, it was nice knowing people had my back. Bridget came over to the stretcher. "I can take it from here, you've got enough to worry about," she said, looking around at the aftermath still left to be cleaned up. I nodded, knowing she was right. There were a lot of things that needed to be done.

Deciding this was a battle he wasn't going to win, Adam finally moved out of the way as Bridget and the transport team moved the stretcher. "Fine, if you insist that he needs to stay here, then I'm posting an office outside his room. No more escape tricks." That wasn't a surprising decision, but it was disheartening all the same. Now there was no way I could visit Guy without anyone noticing. Adam spoke quietly to his officers and one of them followed Bridget down the hall.

My mind was spinning in circles as I watched them wheel Guy away. When they rounded the corner and disappeared out of sight, I took a deep breath, shut down my brain, and got to work sorting out the mess left behind.


	19. Chapter 19

It was like being torn in two. That's what he felt as Hood fell to the ground next to him. He watched as the nurses worked their magic to no avail. He felt on the verge of collapse himself as if something was pulling him towards the other side. But there was something else, a force anchoring him in the present.

Then there was something anchoring him to the wall. He was hit out of nowhere; the breath knocked out of him. Cold, cruel eyes were staring into his as the weight of the man turned every breath into a struggle. Adam spoke words that Guy couldn't quite understand and pushed harder, making pain shoot through Guy's healing wounds.

Jackie pulled Adam away so quickly that Guy was sure he would fall to the floor. Everything went hazy for a moment before soft golden eyes cut through the mist. Robin wasn't strong enough to keep him upright, not with every moment sapping his strength more and more. Someone else, the arrogant doctor, grabbed his arm to help, surprisingly gentle as they led Guy to a bed.

The room was fading, replaced with fresh air and green leaves, sunlight filtering through the canopy in a comforting way. "Guy," a voice in the distance called out to him. "I need you to say something."

He tried, he really did. No matter what he did, his mouth wouldn't move and the words wouldn't come out. Guy blinked a few times, trying to clear the blurriness that was taking over. The room finally came back into focus, complete with Robin's worried face staring at him, her eyes full of concern. There was the familiar beeping of machines as Robin and the doctor examined him. They were talking, though their voices sounded strangely far away and he couldn't quite make out what they were saying.

People came and people went, none of it registering on Guy's radar. Robin had him stand to move to a different, smaller bed. He did it without resisting. More people were suddenly in the room, louder now than was bearable. Men in uniforms, some that Guy recognized and some strangers, crowding the room with voices that pierced the haze in his mind like daggers.

They were here for him. _Adam._ The name floated to the top of his consciousness. There was a burning hatred for this man, though he wasn't entirely sure why at that moment. But the way the man was coming towards him was threatening. Guy hated being threatened. Instinct kicked in, forcing Guy to neutralize the threat.

It was so satisfying to slay the enemy; it made him feel powerful, which was all he ever wanted. As Adam's lackeys struggled to help their leader, Guy knew they would never succeed. He felt like a god, life and death in his hands. The fear in his enemy's eyes as he realized this was really the end. Just a few more moments and it would be done.

"Guy." A voice pulled his attention, forcing him to relax his iron grip. He was suddenly aware of a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Hey, listen." Robin's voice was soft and soothing, pulling him back from the edge with every word. Guy forgot why he wanted to kill this man in the first place, so he let him go. The spell was broken, and the fog seeped back in.

The sound of chirping birds pulled him awake again. More sunlight, more leaves, though these were on the ground beneath his head, an uncomfortable resting place after growing used to the soft beds of the hospital. The blurriness was gone from his eyes, making everything seem crisp now in comparison. He moved a hand, experimenting, making sure that nothing was too damaged before trying to stand.

How did he get here? The trees bore a striking resemblance to Sherwood forest, though he supposed all trees probably looked the same. Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had traveled lands once again. The thought alone was enough to pull him to his feet and glance around anxiously. It wasn't possible, was it? Fear settled into his stomach. Every sound, every smell, it was all too familiar.

"No." It was only a whisper, but the word seemed to echo through the stillness of the trees. There was a time when he wanted nothing more but to be out of that place, but now his mind was fully occupied with how to get back.

He turned in circles, trying to decide what to do next. Finally, he set off in a random direction, thinking it was the only option. It wasn't as if he could just sit down and give up. He wandered through the familiar yet disorienting forest, not knowing what he was searching for or hoping to stumble upon. All he knew was that he had to do something

It was strange to be out in the open, breathing in fresh air after countless days of being cooped up in the hospital. And to be alone, without Robin or one of the other wardens there to answer his every need. He should feel liberated; wasn't this what he had wanted from the beginning, to be left alone? Yet all he felt was a distinct emptiness, a lonely, pressing feeling, as if the world was closing in on him.

As his senses adjusted to the new environment, he could pick up the distinct sounds of nature. It was so quiet; the sound of his breathing and his soft footsteps were the only unnatural sounds he could hear. He was so focused on the silence that when a twig broke in the distance; it sounded like an explosion in his mind.

Swirling, Guy looked for the source of the sound. "Who's there?" He called, not expecting an answer. He was surprised when Allan stepped out from behind a tree.

"Well, what do we have here?" The outlaw smirked, clearly surprised to see Guy alive and in the flesh, though he tried to play it off. In truth, the sight of the Black Knight was like seeing a ghost, one Allan wasn't so sure would be friendly. He had a knife tucked into his palm, just in case.

Guy relaxed his stance, though he didn't have a weapon to defend himself in the first place. He was relieved at the sight of Allan before he remembered the betrayal of his right-hand man. "Allan." He said coldly, trying not to reveal the extent of his hurt. It had been foolish of him to think he could trust the man who had spent a large portion of his life as a traitor.

The two men stared at each other for a tense moment, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Allan knew he had the upper hand; he had weapons, not to mention backup nearby. But there was something about Gisborne that always made him uneasy. The man was so unpredictable, and that made him dangerous. Guy was the first to make a move, holding his arms out in a gesture of surrender. "It seems you've caught me unarmed and defenseless," he said, sneering.

Unarmed might be true, but Allan knew that Guy was far from defenseless. For the first time, he noticed Gisborne's strange state of dress. He had loose-fitting breeches on and a white tunic that seemed flimsy and inadequate, hardly appropriate attire for the Knight. Yet, Gisborne seemed completely comfortable with his garments, not the least bit self-conscious, as he knew the man could be.

Shrugging, Allan came forward to get a better look. "You seem… different, Gis," he said haltingly as he examined his former employer. Now it was Guy's turn to smirk, relishing in the confusion he saw in Allan's expression. "In a good way," Allan continued, wiping the smirk off Gisborne's face.

"What's that supposed to mean?" He growled, making Allan flinch with just the sound.

Allan crossed his arms, squinting, trying to figure out what exactly he did mean, because he wasn't so sure himself. It wasn't just the garments that Gisborne wore, but something beyond, something he couldn't describe. Guy scowled back menacingly, never one to enjoy being examined so closely. "There, that's more like it," Allan joked at his expression. "Well, we'd better be getting to camp then," he said, gesturing with the knife.

Dread gripped Guy's heart at his words. He had a fair idea of what camp Allan was referencing, and it was not somewhere he was eager to go. "I'm not going anywhere with you," he said, though he wasn't sure he had a choice in the matter.

"Don't worry your pretty little head, Gis, Robin's not been around in weeks. He's probably dead, honestly," Allan said lightly, as if Robin's death had no effect on his life. His words reassured Guy a bit. After all, Robin had been in the hospital. Then again, so had Guy. There was no reason to believe that Robin wouldn't show back up here just as he had himself.

Regardless of where Robin was or was not, Guy decided to follow Allan back to his camp. He didn't have the strength to fight of the wily outlaw, especially not unarmed. They set off in silence, making their way through the forest. Even though the walk was short, Guy felt exhausted by the time they made it to the clearing.

Much was sitting by the fire, stirring a pot of something and humming to himself. He glanced up when Allan entered the clearing. "Did you find any — You!" Standing up, Much stared blankly at Guy, not sure whether to run or fight. "Where did he come from?" He still hadn't moved from his place by the fire, worried that Allan had betrayed them once again and sold them out to the enemy.

"I found him in the forest," Allan said as if it were obvious.

"He's supposed to be dead! We all saw him die!"

Guy was tired of this conversation, tired of standing, really just tired overall. "Obviously I am not dead," he said flatly, though he honestly wasn't sure it was true. He walked over to the fire and sat down. No one stopped him, still wary of his existence.

Much went over to Allan, eying Guy as he did so to make sure he tried nothing suspicious. Guy couldn't hear what they were saying, but from the way they were looking at him, he was sure it wasn't anything pleasant. He didn't have the energy to care; the walk to camp had sapped all of his strength. If he just closed his eyes, he would likely fall asleep sitting up. The thought was tempting.

His eyes had just started to drift closed when there was a howl from the tree line. Guy's eyes snapped open just in time to see a huge figure barreling towards him. That was the last thing he saw before he was slammed to the ground and everything went black.

Pain shot through his body as he woke up. It was dark and quiet, even the sounds of the forest were muffled. Any attempt at movement sent a new jolt of agony through his shoulders and arms, which were tied behind his back. He realized that the outlaws had placed a hood over his face, what for, he didn't know. His shoulder felt wrong, as if his arm wasn't connected properly to the rest of his body.

There were no voices around, so they had either moved him away from camp or everyone was gone or asleep. He could smell the campfire, so he decided it was one of the latter options. With the hood over his face, there was no way to tell what time it was. They had tied his legs as well, tethering them to his arms, so any attempt to move his legs tugged mercilessly at his sore shoulder. The more he struggled, the worse the pain became, and the more panicked he felt.

 _Maybe they left me here to die alone_. His heart raced at the thought, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Gisborne!" A voice hissed nearby, so softly that he almost didn't hear it over the sound of his own heart pounding in his ears. The hood was snatched off his head, his eyes blinking to adjust to the light. It was approaching dawn, the forest full of mist and mystery. Allan's concerned face hovered above him as he crouched next to the prisoner. "What in God's name is the matter with you?"

As Guy struggled to slow and quiet his breathing, he looked around. The other outlaws must have been asleep, with Allan on watch duty. "I'm alright," he whispered, shaking his head for emphasis. Every movement sent waves of pain through his shoulder, making him grimace.

It didn't escape Allan's watchful eye. "No, you are not." He pulled out a knife and cut the rope that tied Guy's legs to his wrists. The release of the tension made Guy grunt in pain, only to be shushed by Allan. "Wouldn't look too good for me to be seen being friendly with the enemy," he whispered, gesturing towards the tent where Guy assumed the other outlaws were sleeping.

Allan helped Guy sit up, taking some of the pressure off his shoulder. It didn't feel good, but it was still a small relief. The sun was rising, sparkling off the mist that hung in the clearing. The two men stared at each other for a long moment, unsure where things stood between them. Seeming to make a decision, Allan silently stood, circling around behind Guy and cutting the ties that bound his hands.

It was a struggle for Guy to contain the cry that rose in his throat as he brought his injured arm around, clenching his jaw from the effort. Allan came back around and freed his legs before standing up, tucking his knife back into his belt. "Why are you helping me?" Guy asked, so quietly Allan almost didn't hear him.

"I wish I knew," he said, scowling, reaching down to help the other man stand. "Now, hit me."

That wasn't the response he had been expecting. "What?"

With a sigh, Allan gestured towards his face. "Hit me. We must make it realistic. Then you run."

Guy wasn't confident in the finer points of Allan's plan, but he was in too much pain to come up with a better one, so he shrugged. "You're sure about this?" he whispered, raising his fist. Allan just nodded, scrunching his eyes closed as he braced for the blow.

He couldn't do it. Beyond the fact that he was injured and exhausted, Guy found that he just couldn't bring himself to hit Allan in the face. "What are you waiting for?" Allan whispered, opening one eye to glare at him.

"I don't know," Guy said, looking down at the ground, embarrassed. It wasn't an expression Allan had ever seen on the black knight's face.

A rustling sound came from the tent, catching their attention. With a frustrated sigh, Allen shook his head. "I guess there's only one thing to do," he mumbled before pulling back and landing a solid punch on Guy's jaw, catching him off guard.

Starbursts flashed in front of his eyes, making him dizzy. Guy quickly shook them off, landing a blow of his own, knocking Allan to the ground. He didn't try to get up, instead mouthing "run" as the sounds of the scuffle pulled the other outlaws from their tents. Guy took off, trying to make as little noise as possible in the quiet forest. He could hear Allan behind him, telling Much and Little John that the prisoner had escaped. They all set off in search, though the sounds of their voices seemed to get further away. Allan was leading them in the wrong direction. Guy sent him a silent thanks and kept running, hoping to disappear into the mist.

He didn't make it far, though, stumbling on a root that was obscured by a pile of leaves.

A groan startled him as he hit the ground. Turning, Guy realized he hadn't tripped on a root at all.

"Robin!" He rushed to clear the leaves away, noting how pale and fragile she looked. He was almost afraid to touch her, worried she might break. Another groan pushed that thought from his mind, her eyelids fluttering as she started to wake up. He gathered her up in his arms, ignoring the pain as he did so, cradling her close, unsure what to do. It wasn't often that he found himself in this position, needing to be the one who took care of someone.

Upon closer inspection, Guy noticed the darkening bruise around Robin's eye and the marks on her neck. He stiffened, ice shooting through his heart, scared to even entertain the idea that sprung instantly into his mind. He could never have done that to Robin. Could he? The fact that he couldn't be sure, that scared him the most. He held her closer, sharp tears pricking his eyes.

"What the hell?" Her voice was rough and creaking, as if it hadn't been used in years. She started to squirm against his grip, so he loosened the hold enough for her to sit up, noting her painful wince as she did so. Those fiery eyes met his indignantly before softening. "Oh, thank god!" Robin put her hands to his face, scanning quickly for any sign of injury, her bruised eye not slowing down her assessment. "You're okay?" She touched the tender spot on his jaw that he was sure would develop into a nasty bruise.

Guy nodded, relishing in the warmth of her hands before she released him, an embarrassed flush spreading across her own cheeks. She looked around in confusion, noting the leaves and the trees that had replaced the hospital walls. "Guy? Where are we?" She had leaves stuck in her hair, which he absentmindedly plucked out as he sat there, trying to decide what to tell her.

"We're in Sherwood Forest," he finally said.


	20. Chapter 20

By the time everything was said and done, I was so mentally exhausted that I couldn't think. It took hours to get things settled. We convinced Adam to go to the ER; he was thankfully just fine, no major damage beyond the bruise that was blossoming on his neck. Someone had informed his supervisor of what happened. They set up a meeting to decide how to proceed. I had a few suspects in mind regarding who had called that one in.

Our own manager, Lisa, was called in to help us debrief. It was an exhausting process where we discussed what happened, going in circles with no real answers or resolution. I wasn't in the mood to rehash the events of the night, but that was protocol. In the end, it was decided that while we all could have done things differently, been better overall, the end result wasn't something we could have foreseen or avoided.

"It's been a stressful few weeks for you," Lisa told me later, in private. She called me to her office before I left for the morning. "You should take a few days off, give yourself a break from this place."

The idea of spending a week at home with nothing to do sounded terrible. "I can't take off like that. You know we are already short-staffed."

She frowned. If anyone knew how true that was, it would be her. "Maybe a change of scenery would be good, then. How would you like to work in the ER this week?" I had crossed trained to the ER months before, but we were chronically short-staffed so there hadn't been much opportunity to work down there. "I'm sure the ER manager would be happy to work something out. They've got a few cross-trained nurses down there." She looked at me expectantly, giving me the distinct feeling that this wasn't so much an offer as a command.

It wasn't such a bad idea. The fast pace of the ER would help keep my mind off things. So, I shrugged. "Sure, why not?"

Lisa looked pleased, nodding. "Great. I'll set it up. I think it'll be good for you, let the dust settled. Sometimes it's nice to have a different patient every few hours." She raised her eyebrows for a moment, letting me know that she had heard things. "It's very easy to get attached when you're taking care of the same patient's every day," she said. "But Robin, you have to be more careful." She wasn't mad about it; it was a simple statement of a fact. Yet, the warning was still there, and she was absolutely right.

I went home, feeling like death itself. All I wanted to do was crash in my bed, but once I got there it was a struggle to sleep. My mind kept playing the events of the night, over and over. I was worried about Guy; something was very wrong with him. It was like he wasn't here anymore, leaving an empty body. Nothing about him made sense.

Finally, I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. When I woke up, my body was stiff, and my mouth was dry. I'd been dead to the world for over 12 hours. "Good morning, Rumpelstiltskin," Jackie joked when I emerged from my room. The sun was rising, and Jackie was making pancakes.

"I feel like I got hit by a truck," I mumbled, pouring a cup of coffee.

Jackie handed me a plate piled with pancakes and bacon. "You look like, too," she grinned. "You should probably check your phone. I heard it go off at least a dozen times."

That was never a good thing. I darted back to my room to find my phone, which was still in the pocket of my scrub pants that I left piled on the floor. The battery was dead. I plugged it in, deciding to deal with that after I ate.

Jackie was settled in at the table, going to town on her breakfast. "So, Lisa said you're gonna spend a few shifts downstairs," she said.

I nodded. "Yeah, it sounded like a good idea at the time." Now that I was adequately rested, I wasn't thrilled with the arrangement.

"Maybe it'll be good for you," Jackie said. "You know things have been… weird, lately. After yesterday, I wouldn't mind a break, either."

Shrugging, I started eating, not really sure what else to say. My mind was still in turmoil, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. From the bedroom, my phone rang. I ignored it, focusing on my food.

Jackie's eyes were burning a hole through my head. I looked up at her expectantly, eyebrows raise. "Oh, don't give me that look," she huffed. "You know exactly what I'm thinking." I kept looking at her, waiting. "How on earth are we going to solve the mystery of the black knight if he's under lock and key on the floor?"

The way she said it made it sound like a Nancy Drew novel. I only hoped this thing would have a happy ending, tied up in a tidy bow at the end of the book. At the moment, that was hard to imagine. "We're not going to do anything," I said firmly. "Except go to work, do our jobs, and come home. Getting involved is what started this mess in the first place."

We both knew it was the best course of action, but my heart wasn't in the declaration. The truth was impossible to ignore, just like my feelings. We needed to find a way to get to him. "I wonder who is on the floor tonight," Jackie said, ignoring my glare. "Did Bridget say if she was back tonight?"

I couldn't remember, but Jackie seemed to think she was. "I'll be busy in the ER," I said, shutting down whatever wild plan she was working on. I got up and put my plate in the sink. "I'm getting in the shower. Stop scheming." She just crossed her arms and rolled her eyes dramatically.

It was a quiet night in the ER, not what I was looking for. We treated a few broken bones, a couple of car accidents, a minor heart attack. Nothing too exciting. I was spending way too much time thinking about Guy. Finally, I admitted a new-onset seizure patient for testing and observation. I called up to the floor. "Can I speak to the nurse getting this new patient?"

"Oh, that's Bridget. Hold on." My heart skipped a beat while the other nurses covered the mouthpiece of the phone. "Bridge, ER's on the phone!"

She picked up the other line. "Hello, Bridget speaking." She sounded exhausted

It was a weird relief hearing her voice. "Hey Bridget, it's Robin."

"Hey! Oh my gosh, I've been dying to talk to you about…" she trailed off, laughing a bit. "I guess you're calling for report, huh? I'm ready."

As I gave her a brief rundown of her new patient, my mind was spinning a plan. "Anyway, do you got any questions?"

She thought a second. "No, I think I'm good."

"Okay, I'll bring them on up, then." It wasn't something we normally did, bringing patients up ourselves, unless they were very unstable. But it was quiet enough down here and I needed a change of scenery.

There was a smile in her voice when she responded. "Alright, good." I wondered what was going on up there. I guess I was about to find out myself.

After I got up to the floor with the new patient and got them settled in, Bridget walked out to the hallway with me. She turned suddenly, pulling me into a quick hug, catching me off guard. "I'm glad you're alright after the other night," she said, loudly enough to be heard by anyone nearby. The hug was going on longer than I was comfortable with at this point. Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The guard is gone. I told him that the cafeteria was closing soon. You don't have much time." Then she let me go, moving on as if nothing happened.

I had no idea Bridget was so sneaky. She smiled and went back into her new patient's room, leaving me to sneak down the hall. Everyone was thoroughly preoccupied with their own tasks, so it seemed like they didn't notice when I slipped into Guy's unguarded room.

There he was. He looked peaceful, eyes closed with even breaths. I walked slowly over, afraid to disturb him, and sat down on the bed next to him. He didn't move at all. "Guy?" I whispered, grasping his hand gently. There was no response. I just needed to see his eyes, to know that he was okay.

He was so still, not moving at all aside from the subtle shift of his chest while breathing. I pulled his hand up, holding it close. It was warm, at least. Not corpse cold as I had almost expected. "Guy," I said again, a little louder, watching his face intently for any movement.

Those blue eyes snapped open startling fast, making me jump back a bit. Not far enough, not fast enough. The hand I had held close grabbed my neck as if a continuation of the ordeal with Adam. It was hard to make a sound, but I forced out a strangled cry, hoping it was enough.

The door burst open; the guard was back from the cafeteria. "What are you doing in here? Get away from him!" He didn't stop to take in the scene, moving faster than I would have thought possible. Suddenly, my neck was ripped from Guy's viselike grasp. A split second of grateful was followed by the feeling of flying as the guard threw me to the ground. There was a sickening crack – my head hitting the ground, or my ribs breaking from the pressure of the guard's knee on my chest? And then, only darkness.

* * *

Pain pulled me awake. I was lifted off the floor by some unseen force, gripped tightly but somehow carefully. The stuffy hospital scent was gone, replaced with something cleaner and more earthy. _Maybe they got a new floor cleaner,_ I thought, taking a deep breath. It was too difficult to breathe in deeply while also being restrained by persons unknown. Twisting, I tried to pull away, making a mental note of the pain that pounded in my head with the sudden movement. The arms loosened enough for me to see who I was dealing with.

My heart jumped as soon as I saw those icy blue eyes. "Thank God!" Guy looked terrible, but at least his eyes weren't the vacant shells they had been the last I saw him. His stubble was rough against my palms as I couldn't stop myself from checking to make sure he was real. He was battered and bruised but seemed in one piece.

Other things slowly came into focus. Trees, leaves, birds chirping. We weren't in Kansas anymore. "Where are we?" I asked, wondering how on earth I had gotten outside. There was something different about the forest; it didn't look like any I had seen in our area. I couldn't put my finger on it, but things just felt… off. Guy was silent for a moment, thinking. That's when I realized what it was. The silence. It was heavy and oppressive, the most complete silence I had ever heard. No cars, trucks, trains, or people nearby. Just the rustle of leaves in the wind and the occasional bird calling out to the new day.

"We're in Sherwood Forest," Guy said, looking down at the leaf in his hand.

I was sure I misheard. "Excuse me? What did you say?"

He finally looked at me, his own confused expression no doubt mirroring my own. "We are in Sherwood Forest, in the year of our lord 1193." He grimaced, waiting for my reaction.

"And how do you know this?" I had so many questions, but that seemed like at least an easy one to answer, I hoped.

There was a rustling in the leaves; footsteps, coming quickly towards us. Guy looked around in alarm, his expression relaxing when he spotted the source of the disturbance. "That's how I know," he said, motioning behind me.

"What are you doing, Gis? I told to run." The man scowled before he noticed that Guy wasn't alone. "And who is this, exactly?" His expression seemed utterly confused.

I stood up quickly, realizing how it might look to a stranger for me to be curled up basically in Guy's lap. My face felt warm at the thought. "My name is Robin," I said, reaching down to help Guy up, too. I felt dizzy with the sudden change of position. Guy grunted as he stood, obviously feeling his own injuries, both new and old, it appeared.

The stranger scoffed. "Robin? That's not a girl's name!" He laughed, expecting Guy to join in. His smile dropped when he saw the scowl that Guy was shooting his way. "Well, never mind all that. You are still too close to camp, Gisbourne. It's not safe." He glanced behind him as if to demonstrate the dangers lurking in the woods.

"I'm not sure why you even care so much, Allan." Guy's voice was coarse and weary. He sounded utterly defeated.

His words seemed to irritate the other man, Allan, even more. "I'm beginning to ask myself the same question," he grumbled crossing his arms. "So, you're not going to even explain about the girl, then?"

Guy looked at me before answering. "She's the reason I'm still alive," he said. I guess it was true, in a way, since I found him initially.

"What, she's some kind of healer? Like Djaq?" Allan came closer, looking at me skeptically.

The intensity of his stare made me uncomfortable. Something about him made me think he was smarter than he let on; I didn't like it. But Guy seemed to put a measure of trust in this stranger. "Yeah, something like that," Guy said cryptically.

Allan walked in a circle, examining me like I was a cow up for auction. "She seems a bit weird, doesn't she?" he said. "Though I can't quite put my finger on it. What is she wearing? They look like nightclothes!" I looked down at my navy-blue scrubs; he had a point. They were almost as comfortable pajamas. It was one of the perks of the job. He shook his head in apparent disgust.

That was the final straw. "I can hear you, you know, I'm not deaf." I whirled on the rude man, putting him on full blast. "Are all of your friends as rude as this one?" I asked Guy, not taking my eye off the offender.

"We are not friends," both men said simultaneously.

With a roll of my eyes, I turned back to Guy. "Could have fooled me. He's almost as frustrating as you are. Almost." It was a futile attempt to make him smile. There was worry etched in his expression, a tightness around his mouth. A sudden feeling made me step closer. "What is it?" I asked quietly. He had felt it too, the shift, the pull. I raised my hand to reach out to him but stopped, afraid to even move.

It was closing in, the crushing feeling, making it difficult to breathe. Guy's eyes widened in alarm before he finally reached out, grabbing my arms. "Robin, please…" The desperation in his voice was heartbreaking. But I couldn't respond, couldn't move. Those frantic blue eyes were the last thing I saw before everything went black again.

* * *

"Robin! Robin, are you okay?" The lights were blindingly bright when I opened my eyes again. As the world came back into focus, I saw Bridget's concerned face looking down at me. Next to me was the guard, sprawled out on the ground and struggling to get up. "Oh, thank God," Bridget said, moving back as I sat up. She helped me stand, though I felt a little wobbly. As soon as I was on my feet, I dashed over to the trash can and threw up.

Someone else was there at my side, holding my hair while I was shoulders deep in the trash can. "Oh, hun. You're gonna have to go get checked out downstairs." Jackie. I wondered vaguely who called her. Every bone in my body hurt. My head was spinning.

"Yeah," I said, though it hurt to even talk. I looked over at Guy suddenly, remembering everything. I had just been talking to him, minutes before, in the forest. But we were both here, now. He just stared at the wall, blankly. Maybe he wasn't really there, after all. Jackie pushed me into a wheelchair that appeared behind me and rolled me away.


	21. Chapter 21

No amount of pleading could make her stay. He knew it was true but couldn't stop himself from trying. "Robin, please…" he held on to her, his grip too tight. She should have flinched in pain. She didn't.

"Gisborne!" Allan tugged on his arm, trying to loosen the hold he had on Robin. "You're going to break her." Guy relaxed a little, relieved that she didn't collapse without his support. She didn't move at all, just stood there as still as a statue. "What's the matter with her?" Allan asked, waving his hand in front of her unblinking stare.

It was enough to make Guy want to sit back down and just go to sleep. He didn't have the energy to deal with this mess. He was on the run from people who hated him, with good reason, he supposed. He was desperate to get back to the strange world he had been pulled away from, yet completely unsure how to get there. Now, Robin was here in his own land, but not really there at all. His head pounded behind his eyes as he tried to work it all out.

Allan frowned, worried that Much and Little John would stumble upon them at any moment. "We can't just stand here, Gis, you need to get moving," he said.

There was no denying it, Allan was right. But Guy had no idea where to go, or how he was going to get anywhere with Robin's current state. He certainly would not leave her. He reached out for her hand, grabbing it with no resistance. An idea came into his mind; he pulled on her hand experimentally, and she took a step forward.

"You can't be serious," Allan said with a frustrated sigh. "There's no way she will make it through the forest with whatever is going on up there." He tapped his temple dramatically.

The gesture made Guy wish he had punched Allan harder than he did earlier. "I am not leaving her," he growled.

Throwing up his hands, Allan stepped back. "All right, all right. But she can't walk like that." He looked at the girl thoughtfully for a moment. "She's small enough. We can just carry her."

It wasn't the worst idea, though Guy wasn't sure he had the strength. Then again, he definitely wasn't comfortable with Allan toting her around. He told himself that Robin wouldn't be comfortable with a stranger carrying her, either. Guy gritted his teeth and scooped Robin up with his good arm, trying to ignore the pain as he did so. He had to do it; there was no other way. Allan was right, she was small enough. Guy held her close, soaking in the warmth she provided. Her hair smelled like flowers, reassuring him that she was really there, even if her mind was somewhere else.

Allan shrugged, seeming to accept Guy's decision to carry the girl. "All right then, let's get moving. We need to put some distance between us and the camp." He looked around, deciding which direction to go. Making up his mind, he set off, expecting Guy to follow behind. Guy knew he didn't really have much of a choice. He followed Allan, fighting to keep his breathing even so the other man didn't realize how much he was struggling.

"So, a girl, huh?" Allan said lightly after they had walked in silence for a while. Guy could tell the questions had been eating him alive.

Guy sighed, wishing there was a way to avoid this conversation. "It's rather complicated," he said, trying to buy time.

"Well, it's not as if we don't have time," Allan said, raising his eyebrows expectantly.

Unsure where to start, Guy thought for a moment. "You were there, in the Holy Land," he said slowly.

Nodding, Allan looked at him carefully. "Oh, yes, I was there."

Guy tightened his grip on Robin before continuing. "And you remember what happened…" he hesitated, suddenly wondering if his memories were even real, considering everything that had happened since.

"You mean when you died?" Allan said bluntly. "It's not a sight I could forget, is it?"

That was it, then. It was all real. Guy was quiet again, lost in his own thoughts. "I don't get it, Gis," Allan continued. "You were dead. We all saw it, the blood, the swords. Yet here you are, alive as if none of that had ever happened."

"It happened," Guy said. "I bear the scars to prove it." The scars that still pained him, a bitter reminder of everything that had taken place.

Allan shook his head. "Then how are you here, alive? Even Djaq said there was no way to survive your wounds." There was something that almost sounded like hurt in his voice, as if the memories of Guy's death were hard to deal with.

He couldn't help but glance down at the woman in his arms. "It was her. She's the only reason I am alive. Somehow, she brought me back, took care of me, even though I was a stranger."

"Why was she in the Holy Land?" Allan asked, still struggling to put the pieces together.

"She wasn't." Noticing the sharp glance from Allan, Guy continued. "I can not explain it, but when I awoke, I was not in the Holy Land. I wasn't anywhere near the Holy Land, or England, or anywhere in between."

Allan was looking at him as if he had lost his senses. "So, where were you? China?"

The conversation was exhausting. They had been walking for what seemed like hours and all Guy wanted to do was take a break. "I think we have put enough distance behind us. I need a drink." They were coming up on a stream and the cool water was calling Guy's name. Allan shrugged, plopping down next to the stream while Guy lowered Robin down gently to the ground. There was no evidence that she was aware of anything that was going on.

He took a long drink from the stream; the water reviving him a bit. It gave him an idea. He scooped some water into his hands and brought it over to Robin. Before he could second guess himself, he splashed the water into her face.

"Gisborne! What are you doing?" Allan shouted, rushing over. Robin blinked the water out of her eyes slowly, the most reaction they had gotten out of her since she went blank. Guy thought his experiment was a success, so he went and scooped up more water. "Are you insane?" Allan cried, slapping the water out of his hands.

Guy turned on Allan angrily. "Do you have a better idea?"

Sitting back thoughtfully, Allan considered his question. "I guess it did seem to get a response out of her," he said. "Maybe the cold could shock her out of her stupor." There was a little smirk on his face that Guy didn't like the looks of.

"What are you thinking?" He asked, suspicious. Allan had a knack for getting up to no good, and Guy didn't want Robin to be party to that.

Before Guy could move to stop him, Allan picked Robin up and carried her to the edge of the stream's bank. The next moment, there was a resounding splash as he tossed her into the water. Guy stood there stunned for a moment, staring at the water where Robin had gone under. Then he shoved Allan out of the way and jumped in after her, ignoring the splash as Allan tumbled into the stream himself.

The water was so cold it took his breath away, but it was thankfully shallow, coming just up to his waist. He saw Robin's head pop out of the water and let out a sigh of relief as he splashed towards her, ignoring the sting of the cold on his wounds and the soreness in his shoulder. "Robin!" He called out to her.

She turned at the sound of his voice, her eyes still distant but a bit more focused than before. Reaching out, Guy grabbed her and pulled her towards him. She was shivering, whether from the cold or shock, he wasn't sure. "Don't worry, you're safe," he murmured as he carried her back to shore.

Allan was dragging himself out of the water, watching Guy anxiously. "Is she all right?" He asked, knowing there would be hell to pay if she wasn't.

His question was ignored. Guy could feel Robin's body shaking, and they had no blankets or dry clothing to change in to. "We have to build a fire," he said.

There was no argument from Allan, even though he didn't think a fire was the best idea. He preferred they lie low and not draw any attention to themselves. One look at Guy told him it was best to just do as he said. Allan had a fire going in no time.

Guy sat down next to the fire with Robin on his lap, rubbing her arms in an attempt to stop her shivering. Her skin felt like ice. Guy desperately wished for a blanket or a cloak, anything that he could use to dry her off. He wasn't sure how long they sat by the fire, but eventually, Robin stopped shaking so violently. The tight grip around his heart seemed to loosen a bit.

Across the fire, Allan had dozed off, leaning against a tree. Guy was fighting sleep himself, knowing someone needed to keep an eye out, scared that if he fell asleep, he would wake up and Robin would not be there. The stress of the day was winning out, though, and he felt his eyes drifting closed. He stretched out on his side, curled protectively around Robin.

He was about to drift off when he heard a soft voice whispering. "It's okay. I'm all right." That was all the reassurance he needed to fall asleep.

A rustle of leaves and a distinct feeling of emptiness pulled Guy awake. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping, though the fire had almost burned out and the sky was a bit lighter than it had been. It only took a moment for him to realize that Robin wasn't next to him. The realization chilled him more than the plunge in the stream.

Instantly on his feet, he looked around frantically. Allan was also up and armed, looking as confused as Guy felt. The search was short-lived; Robin hadn't strayed far. She also hadn't strayed on her own. A stranger stood in the clearing, holding Robin in his arms. He stared at Guy across the dying fire, watching, waiting to see what his next move would be.

Guy fought down the instinct to charge at the stranger. The man had Robin; it wasn't worth the risk. "Who are you and what are you doing here?" He tried to make his voice sound as menacingly as possible, a trick that usually worked on peasants and noblemen alike. This stranger didn't bat an eye, though, didn't look intimidated at all. He was a large man, able to hold Robin as if she was a child. He was dressed in the robes worn by a man of god. Guy had his doubts that this particular man was as pious as his clothing suggested.

"Wait a second, I know you," Allan blurted, inspecting the friar carefully. "Yeah, that's it. I've seen you lurking around Nottingham square. It weren't that long ago, either. In fact, it was the day that Robin…" He trailed off, glancing quickly at Guy. "Never mind that. What are you doing here? What business do you have with the girl?"

The man was largely ignoring Allan, focusing instead on Guy and his reaction. "You're right," he said, his voice deep and authoritative. "I was in the square the day of Robin of Locksley's unfortunate accident." He glanced between Guy and Allan, sure that he was safe from harm as long as he had the girl. "Why don't you follow me? All of your questions will be answered." With that, he turned, not waiting for a response.

It almost felt like Guy was still asleep. Odd nighttime encounters in the forest were more suited for dreams, though a lot of things seemed that way lately. Allan and Guy glanced at each other, unsure of what to do. Finally, Allan shrugged. "I guess we have little of a choice, do we? He has your lady." Guy didn't bother correcting him that she wasn't _his lady_. It wasn't worth the energy. Defeated, the two men followed the stranger into the forest, unsure what they could possibly be getting themselves into.

The strange group walked in silence for a while, as if each one was afraid to be the first one to speak. Finally, glancing behind him as if to make sure they were still following him, the friar spoke. "You desire to return to the place from which you have come, Guy of Gisborne?"

The question caught Guy off guard, making him stumble a bit. "What do you know about that place?" He asked, speeding up his pace so that he was walking next to the friar. Allan joined him, interested in the answer to Guy's question.

"I know that the girl is not from this land," Tuck said, looking down at the girl in his arms. "You've been to her world, have you not?"

Guy was hesitant to answer. Yet this strange friar seemed to know more about it than anyone. Maybe he knew how to get back to Robin. "Yes, I was there, with her." There was no mistaking the gentleness of his tone when he spoke of her. His words gave Tuck more information than Guy intended. There was silence for another moment before Guy couldn't take it anymore. "Do you know how to get there?" He asked, holding his breath, not wanting to get his hopes up but knowing he was far past that point.

"That is not a question I can answer right now," Tuck said. "There are too many unknowns. But I believe I can help you."

It wasn't exactly the answer Guy wanted to hear, but it was better than nothing. He didn't know who this stranger was or why he had sought him out. Perhaps he wanted something in return. Whatever it was, Guy was willing to do it if it meant getting back to Robin. The thought of staying in Sherwood without her, after everything that he'd been through, it seemed a fate worse than death.

That thought stopped him in his tracks. _A fate worse than death._ Could this be his punishment, the payment for his crimes? Given hope and a glimpse of happiness, only to have it ripped away and replaced with the empty existence he was sure to face? It made him sick; he turned away, lightheaded and nauseated, doubled over in pain.

"Christ, Gis, what the hell?" Allan crouched on the ground next to him, a half worried, half disgusted look on his face as Guy dry heaved again. There was nothing in his stomach to come up, but that didn't stop it from trying to turn itself inside out.

The wave passed, leaving him weak and unsteady. Tuck watched quietly as Allan helped Guy stand, observing their every move unnervingly. "Come, we are almost there," he said. "Then you can rest."

At that point, Guy didn't care where "there" was, as long as he could lie down for a moment. Every step was a struggle, even with Allan's support. Suddenly they stopped in front of a large copse of bushes, dense enough that you couldn't see through. The friar moved aside a few branches, revealing a tunnel that led inside. He motioned for Allan and Guy to go in first before following after them.

Inside was more spacious than Guy had expected. The copse was positioned near a rocky cliff face, so it was protected on that side. Tuck had a makeshift lean-to set up against the cliff which provided a shield from wind and rain. The rest of the area was surprisingly open, with enough space for the three men to walk around comfortably. There was also a small area for a fire, where the friar obviously cooked his meals. Under the lean-to was a pile of blankets and clothing.

"Why don't you take a seat?" Tuck said, motioning to the fire circle, where embers still burned. Guy and Allan didn't have to be asked twice, gratefully collapsing next to the fire. Allan picked up a few pieces of wood and began building the fire up a bit.

Guy hadn't taken his eyes off the friar, waiting to see what he would do with Robin. Noticing this, Tuck smiled. "Oh, yes, here you go," he said, gently handing her over to Guy. He could have cried he was so relieved to have her back, safe in his arms. She didn't react, of course, just stared blankly as he cradled her against his chest, reassured at her warmth.

"Where is she from, then?" Allan asked suddenly, finally voicing the question that had been bugging him from the moment she appeared. He was even more annoyed that this stranger seemed to know more about the situation than he did.

Tuck and Guy looked at each other, waiting to see what the other would say. "She's from a land very far away, one that most people don't even know exists yet," Guy said finally. Tuck nodded; this wasn't new information to him, then.

The vague answer didn't satisfy Allan. "Then how did you get there, Gis? And how do you know about it?" He asked, turning to the friar indignantly.

"I learned of it in a vision," Tuck responded. "Why I was shown, I do not know. It is not my place to question God."

Guy's eyebrows shot up at this revelation. "What did you see? Tell me," he demanded, wanting to know every detail.

Their eyes locked for a moment, sending chills down Guy's back. It felt like the friar could see every bad thought and wicked deed he had ever committed. "I saw a land, unlike any place I have ever seen, filled with people, so many people. Their clothing was much like the girl here, all rushing around as if lives depended on it." Guy and Allan leaned forward, hanging on his every word. "The land was home to many inventions and contraptions, things you could never dream existed. Everything about this world was different. The people spoke differently, moved differently. Except…" he trailed off, considering his next words carefully. "There were a few people there that didn't belong. I could sense it. They were not supposed to be there." He caught Guy's gaze again, watching his reaction. "But you already knew all of that, didn't you, Guy of Gisborne?"

The words turned Guy's veins to ice, making him feel panicked. There was nowhere to hide, no way to escape. "What is he talking about, Gis?" Allan asked, though his voice sounded distant over the roaring in his ears.

Guy opened his mouth to speak but couldn't force any words out. The friar stood up and rummaged around under the lean-to, returning with a cup of water. Guy took it gratefully, gulping it down. "I think you should tell us your story," Tuck said gently, sitting down by the fire.

He wasn't sure where to start. "I should have died in the holy land," he said, trying to put the story in a way that made sense. "In fact, I was sure that I did. When I awoke, I wasn't in hell where I belonged, or at least not the hell that I imagined. It was just as you said, friar. There were people, all strange and confusing. I was in and out of consciousness for days. Robin, she was there from the beginning." He looked down at her with a small smile before continuing. "She was like a warrior and death was her enemy, fighting constantly to keep me alive. I don't know why. She fought even when I begged her to let death take me."

There was no disguising the emotion in his voice. He took a long, shuddering breath. "She told me things that were unbelievable. About her world… her time."

Allan made a strange, choking noise. "Her time? What do you mean, her time?"

"What do you think I mean? Her time, different from ours. About eight hundred years different, to be exact." Guy said, deciding to just get it out there and deal with the fall out.

Tuck seemed intrigued but not surprised by the revelation. Allan, on the other hand, looked furious. "So that's it, then?" He said angrily, standing up. "You died, in front of my very own eyes. Then somehow you were brought back to life, eight hundred years in the future. You fall in love with your magic healer and everything is all happily ever after until suddenly you're back here, alive. Is that everything?"

How Guy wished that was everything and not just a scratch on the surface. Allan seemed so upset with just that small part of the story. How would he react when he found out about Hood and Marian? Guy was about to soldier on and face the consequences when he heard a frantic whisper, calling his name.

"Guy?" A bit louder that time, instantly drawing the attention of all three men. Guy froze, staring down at the soft brown eyes blinking up at him, as clear and expressive as the first time he saw them. She was back.


	22. Chapter 22

Dr. Williams was looking at me incredulously. "Jesus Christ, Robin," he said, stepping forward and shaking his head. He hadn't expected me to show up in the emergency room, wheeled down by Jackie. Sighing deeply, he shined a light in my eyes one at a time, making me wince. He sighed again, taking a closer look at the bump on my head that was quickly growing, tender to the touch. "I'm going to have to send you to CT," he said.

That wasn't what I wanted to hear. "Come on, I'm sure there's no need for all that," I said, starting to stand up but feeling a little woozy at just the small movement.

"Robin," Dr. Williams put out a hand to stop me. "You've been acting strangely for a while now. I really think you should let us do the CT." Something in his voice made my heart clench. He was worried. Was there really something wrong with me? What did he think was going on? He wasn't a warm and fuzzy kind of doctor. If he was concerned, well, that meant there was something to be concerned about.

Suddenly doubts started creeping in, doubts about everything that had happened in the last few weeks. "Okay," I said. It was impossible to push down the fear that I felt, pinpricks of ice crawling up my neck. I wished Jackie hadn't gone back up to the unit to check in and make sure her patients were okay.

"Hey, it's okay." He could tell I was scared. The kindness in his eyes made it worse. I had never seen that side of him. "Whatever's wrong, we can take care of it."

The scan didn't take long. Dr. Williams bullied the radiologist into reading it right away. There was a mild concussion but nothing else wrong that they could see. We were all relieved. "Is there someone who can take you home?" The doctor asked after telling me the good news.

Somehow always there at the right moment, Jackie appeared. "Charge said things were quiet enough, I could head on home with you," she said, holding her keys. Dr. Williams looked almost disappointed but nodded.

The world was still slightly spinning on the short car ride home. Jackie was uncharacteristically quiet, perhaps giving me a chance to sort things out on my own. I knew her silence wouldn't last long. We climbed the stairs to the apartment; she made me walk in front of her in case I fell. It seemed like overkill to me. Collapsing on the couch, I tried to decide if the world was spinning more or less with my eyes closed. Either way, I felt like barfing again but struggled to keep it down.

Jackie sat down next to me, handing me a hot cup of tea I hadn't even realized she was making. "What's going on, Robin?" she asked quietly, the concern clear in her voice. We were clearly past joking about the situation. She was worried, too.

"I wish I could explain it," I said, at a loss for the words I needed. "I feel a little bit insane right now." How could I tell her? I was beginning to understand how Guy must have been feeling the whole time, how difficult it was for him to tell me the truth. Or what seemed like the truth, however messed up it was.

She still hadn't said anything, waiting patiently for me to gather my thoughts. "It all started when Guy showed up, you know?" I said, stalling. "There was something about him, not just the mystery, something else. I couldn't ignore it. I couldn't stay away."

Jackie nodded slowly. "But that's not everything, is it? You've had relationships before, but not like this. I've never seen you like this." She was trying to be gentle, something completely out of her nature. That almost made it worse, the way she was handling me like I was a fragile item, easily broken.

"You're right. There's so much more. When the other two patients showed up, it was obvious there was a connection between them. You know I couldn't just leave it alone, right? I had to figure it out. I didn't think… well, I almost wish I didn't know, now. It was so much easier not knowing." I was rambling; it was obvious Jackie was getting impatient and more concerned with every word.

A crease had formed between her eyebrows as she leaned forward. "What is it? Is he in a gang? The mob? Is he a spy?" She whispered, trying not to spook me as if I was a wild creature that could bolt at any moment.

"No, nothing like that." I took a deep breath, bracing myself. "He's a time traveler."

Her wide brown eyes blinked slowly at me. "Say what, now?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

I knew this was a bad idea. "He's from the past. I don't know how, or why, but somehow he traveled from the past and ended up here."

"I see. How do you know this?" She looked like she was five seconds away from calling an ambulance to come to take me to the looney bin. I wouldn't blame her, honestly.

"He told me, of course."

"Of course. And you believed him, why?"

That was the part where it got tricky. Why had I believed him in the first place? Even I didn't have a good answer to that. But after I had been in the forest, whether it was real or not, I was sure. Plus, there were the dreams. "I've been having strange dreams. Perfectly clear, so realistic. I dreamt of the third patient, every detail about him, from his eyes to his voice—"

Jackie interrupted me. "And what is so strange about that? It's normal to have weird dreams after a traumatic experience."

"No," I shook my head. "I had these dreams before he was my patient. I had never seen him before in my life, but he was in my dreams. Then he was in our hospital." I held up my hand, stopping her from interrupting again. I wanted to finish saying what I needed to say. Once the words started tumbling out there was no stopping them. "And he told me things about Guy, really terrible things that I didn't want to believe. But for some reason it made sense, it all fit together. So, when I confronted Guy, and he got so angry… I knew. Then he said he was from another time. After everything else that had happened, I just believed him. And now, well, I believe him even more now."

While I stopped to catch my breath, Jackie jumped on the chance to speak. "What do you mean, even more now? What else has happened?" Her voice still held a note of disbelief, but she was also fascinated.

Of course, she would catch that. "Well. After the guard tackled me, I blacked out. When I woke up, I wasn't in the hospital. There was a forest, so quiet you could almost hear your hair growing. It was actually kind of beautiful. And I wasn't alone. Guy was there, alert and oriented, talking to me. There was another man, too, one I've never seen before, someone who seemed to know Guy very well. God, he was annoying. It was all so real."

She was looking at me like I had lost my mind. Maybe I had, I wasn't sure. "It doesn't make sense, Jackie, but it was real." She kept staring at me, so perfectly still that she looked frozen. That's when the roaring started again, sounding as if it was coming from inside my own head.

"Robin!" The voice was distant. I wanted nothing more than to reach towards it, but I couldn't pinpoint where it was coming from. The air was suddenly so cold, it felt like I had walked into a freezer. The coldness shook my body and took my breath away, a heaviness in my chest like I was underwater.

Then Jackie's mouth was moving, but I couldn't hear her. The jet engine in my head drowned everything else out.

"Robin!" Just like that, the spell was broken. Jackie was shaking me, fear in her eyes. "Oh my god Robin, say something!" She looked around frantically for her phone.

Grabbing her arm, I shook my head. "Stop, I'm okay." But I was still shaking.

Warm hands pulled me into a tight hug. "What was that? It was like you suddenly just… weren't here anymore." Those last words trailed off as she considered the implication of them. "Were you there? Just like that?"

"No, not really. But… I could hear him. Guy, he was calling to me." I grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch in an attempt to stop the shivering. Jackie was up and pacing the floor, thinking. I was suddenly so exhausted it was a struggle to keep my eyes open. "I think I need to lay down," I said, curling up on the couch.

Jackie sighed before reaching down to tuck the blanket around me. "I'll check on you in a bit, okay?" I could barely nod; I was already falling into a dreamless sleep.

The smell of bacon and the sound of Jackie banging around in the kitchen woke me up a few hours later. "Oh good, you're awake. Here, I wanted to make sure you ate something before going back to sleep." She brought over a plate and set it in front of me on the coffee table as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. After checking my pupils and doing a quick neuro check, she let me eat.

"How're you feeling?" Jackie asked when I finished shoveling the food in my face.

My head hurt, I was dizzy, and I still felt like I could sleep for days. "Not too bad," I said. "Though I think I might go back to sleep for a while."

She nodded. "I've got a few errands to run, so at least you'll have some peace and quiet. Is there anything you need while I'm out?" She handed me the meticulously handwritten list she had made.

Looking it over, I couldn't think of anything that she'd forgotten. "No, looks good to me," I said, taking my dishes into the kitchen. After she was gone, I made my way into my bedroom. The curtains were already closed, and my noise machine was on, just the way I liked it. It didn't take long for me to fall back asleep.

Angry voices cut through the sleepy haze I was in. "You died, in front of my very own eyes. Then somehow you were brought back to life, eight hundred years in the future. You fall in love with your magic healer and everything is all happily ever after until suddenly you're back here, alive. Is that everything?"The voice was slightly familiar though hard to place.

The strong arms that were wrapped around me tightened protectively. It was comforting and reassuring, even though my mind felt sluggish and I wasn't sure where I was anymore.

 _"_ _You died, in front of my very own eyes."_

Suddenly the pieces fell into place and I realized who was speaking. It was that man, Allan, the one who knew Guy. "Guy," I whispered, soaking in the warmth of his arms, worried he would disappear again. He froze, unsure if he had really heard something or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

"Guy," I said again. He finally looked down at me, his face tired and full of worry. I gave him a small smile to reassure him. The relief that came over him seemed to have a physical presence.

 _"_ _You fall in love with your magic healer and everything is all happily ever after."_

What had Guy been saying before I woke up? If only I could have heard what was said just a few moments before.

He was looking at me as if I might vanish at any moment. "Robin," he said, so gently it hurt. I glanced around, taking in the sights. Allan looked like he was ready to barf at the scene before him. Then there was another man, a stranger.

"Who are you?" I asked the man, who was watching us intently.

The stranger smiled warmly. "I'm Friar Tuck. We are glad you are back with us and looking so well."

I doubted that I looked well at all. My hair felt stringy, my mouth felt like cotton, and I could tell there were bruises in the more sore areas of my face and body. Meanwhile, Guy was still holding onto me, afraid to let go. I couldn't help myself; I rested my head against his chest for a moment, relishing in the feel of his heart beating against my cheek. He seemed to stop breathing for a second, not wanting to disrupt that fragile moment.

Friar Tuck cleared his throat, successfully breaking us apart. I disentangled myself from Guy's arms and stood up, my legs stiff and joints creaky. "How long was I out?" I asked, trying to get a feel for how time passed in this other world. It was disconcerting how reasonable that thought seemed, like thinking about time variables in different realms was just an everyday occurrence.

"Just a day or so," Guy said. I nodded; it seemed like things lined up pretty well.

There was no doubt that Allan had something to say. I was curious about how he and Guy knew each other. There were a lot of things I was curious about, actually. It seemed, though, Allan was going to get his questions answered first. "So, Gis says you're from the future or something?"

Straight to the point. I was surprised Guy had told them that outright. "Something like that. Or rather y'all are from the past." My answer didn't sit right with him.

"And what, Gis was in the future too, with you? But now he's back, and you're here too. How did that happen?" He looked angry, though not entirely disbelieving.

I shrugged. It sounded like he knew as much as I did at that point. "I wish I knew. I was just minding my own business one day walking out from work and it was like Guy appeared out of the clear blue sky. The others were the same".

Guy's eyes locked onto mine frantically for just a moment before Allan stepped forward, eyes narrowed. "What do you mean, 'the others'?" He asked carefully, holding up a hand to silence Guy when he tried to interject. "Who else was there?"

The lump forming in my throat was making it hard to speak. "Um…" I stalled, trying to think of an explanation that didn't involve Robin and Marian. Nothing was coming to mind.

"There's more I need to tell you," Guy broke in, saving me from having to drop that particular bombshell. "I wasn't alone in that strange world. Two others followed after me. Robin Hood and—" his voice caught. "And Marian," he finished after clearing his throat.

Allan whirled on him. "Robin was there? Was he okay?" He seemed desperate for an answer. It was confusing, that this weird little man was friends, or at least friendly, with both Guy and Robin, who clearly hated each other. Where I needed answers, more mysteries appeared.

My eyes met Guy's again. This time I could see the pain in them. He didn't want to be the one to say it. "We did everything we could," I said softly, the words I've spoken a thousand times before, trying to bring comfort to grieving families. "Robin didn't make it."

The stunned silence that followed was broken by a low moan from across the camp. It seemed to come from a pile of blankets and clothing that I hadn't noticed before, stuffed under the lean-to in the corner. Friar Tuck moved over towards the sound with a sheepish smile. "Well, actually, about that…"


End file.
